


The Lion and the Demon

by shoyou100



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood and Violence, Blood-wrath, F/M, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, First Time, Masturbation, Mating Bites, Oral Sex, Part I Complete, Part I: Epilogue, Part II begins, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Time Skip, Size Difference, Spoilers, Tragedy, Vaginal Sex, bonding bites
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2020-08-20 22:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 93,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20235217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoyou100/pseuds/shoyou100
Summary: Byleth the Ashen Demon, ex-mercenary, and teacher of Garreg Mach.Had presented as an omega.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

Byleth woke up delirious and writhing in her sheets.

She gasped as the sweat on her body seemed to drag the cloth across her skin like so many small hands pulling at her back, her legs, her hips.

Memories crawled, disjointed and sluggish, over her mind and Byleth knew she lay on the bed of her dormitory room, far away from the spells of Solon and free from the nether of his accursed dark world as she had cut him down with her own hands.

Byleth cried out again as a focused searing flared along either side of her neck.

The room spun in a blur as she threw aside her bedsheets in vain and reached for the skin.

Her wrists burned too and she slid one across the bed in an attempt to soothe the confusion of her body.

She felt hot and cold at the same time.

“What is happening to me?” Her words came out slurred, her arms shaking at the elbows as she forced herself into a sitting position.

The powers of the goddess Sothis flowed through her veins, a phenomenon and miracle that completed her soul, and poured raw strength from the crest of flames into the tips of her fingers at the direction of her will.

And it would all end in dehydration from a terrible fever.

She heard the door open and a head of blonde hair peered through the doorway.

A faint voice called for her, “Professor?”

“D-Dimitri.” Her tongue felt heavy, thick.

She heard a sharp intake of breath. 

Byleth opened her mouth again to speak but then a fresh set of shudders wracked her body and she hugged herself to keep her body steady, bending her over, chest heaving.

When Dimitri made no move to help her, Byleth forced herself to look up.

He stood facing away, gloved hand clenched in a shaking fist.

“Dimitri, get help. Get…”

Byleth trailed off as the strangest scent of sweet cinnamon suffused the air.

He turned to look at her and if Byleth had been more lucid she would’ve comprehended the meaning behind his gaze.

He wrenched his head away. His shoulders seemed to be shaking. “I’ll go, I’ll go now.” His voice sounded hoarse, strained.

The smell of sweet cinnamon deepened.

So sweet, Byleth thought, as she breathed it in as if it were the most natural thing to do.

Only to come apart.

A fire ignited in her chest, searing down her abdomen, her stomach, down between her legs and it felt so good as a she sighed and arousal pulsed into the tender folds of her sex.

She felt a wetness spread in her underclothes.

“Dimitri.”

A shaky groan came from the entryway.

Byleth didn’t know why she said his name, she didn’t know why she was doing anything.

She tried calling him again, calling out to him so he could—

A sharp pain pierced her lip filling her mouth with blood and choked her with the smell and the taste and all at once everything proved too much.

The pain took hold of her and Byleth sank into oblivion with a great relief.

As the world grew distant the last thing she heard was an echoing thud.

The sound of bone slamming into wood.

* * *

The cool spring air eased the convoluted thoughts of the past few days from her mind as Byleth passed through the gardens on the way to her classroom.

The pleasant weather meant plenty of students milled about in her path.

“Professor.”

“Morning, professor!”

“You look different today, Professor.”

Byleth nodded, smiled, and waved away each student as she passed by.

The casual greetings almost helped her forget the truth of what really changed when Byleth had returned from the abyss of Solon’s curse.

The glands on her wrists and neck tingled as if in answer to her thoughts and Byleth fought the desire to scratch them for the hundredth time.

Rhea had been the one to teach her not to touch them.

Of all people, Byleth shook her head at the thought, it ended up being the archbishop of the monastery.

Glands.

On the bottom half of the neck facing away from the collarbone, one on either side. Two more, one on each wrist. And two down below between the…

Byleth arrived at the classroom door and placed a palm on the handle.

Humans used glands to express emotions from one person to another, though the primary purpose was to enhance the chances of finding a partner.

A mate, the archbishop had said in a calm, collected voice, at odds with the ringing in Byleth’s ears as she had listened to the older woman.

The cool metal contrasted with the irregular heat of Byleth’s hand.

The rise in body temperature. It was natural and there was nothing to be afraid of.

Byleth’s heartbeat picked up until she could hear a dull thudding in her ears. A phenomenon that should have been impossible for her but something had changed.

Something unprecedented in Fodlan history.

Rhea knew these things and understood everything Byleth was going through because she was one too, the archbishop said.

Byleth the Ashen Demon, ex-mercenary, and teacher of Garreg Mach.

Had presented as an omega.

* * *

When Byleth was a child, the mercenaries in Jeralt’s company often told her stories about the fanged, crest-bearing devils of old.

Their eyes! Jacob, a young man at the time and now her oldest friend amongst the company, had exclaimed. You only had to look at their eyes to know what they were.

A flash of their crest, a gleam of their eyes, and you could be dead before you saw their fangs.

Young Byleth had listened, though indifferent, to the stories. The quiet stillness of her mind and her heart had proven more powerful than the high fantasy of the tales Jacob spun for her.

Two healing wounds on her lip throbbed as Byleth ran her tongue over the uneven flesh where the pin-sharp points of elongated canines had torn it open.

Byleth didn’t think there would come a day when she became one of the devils from Jacob’s stories.

The soft murmurings of the monastery shifted back into focus as Byleth left her memories behind and pushed open the classroom door.

* * *

She stepped into the room and all eyes alighted on her.

The atmosphere pulled taut like the string on a bow and a fission of discomfort traveled along her skin.

Ignoring the tension, Byleth reached her desk, set down her books, and turned to take attendance.

Looks of shock and fascination met her from multiple faces.

Somehow they knew, Byleth thought, as she glanced from one student to another. 

As her eyes traveled over their faces, Felix and Sylvain came to regard her with what looked like wariness in their eyes. Mercedes became curious while Annette looked like she might propel from her seat.

Others watched her with a more casual air. Ashe fidgeted with his textbooks while Ingrid adjusted her seat.

Dedue only had eyes for the chair beside him.

Byleth looked and a ripple of alarm traveled through her chest as her mind made sense of the sight.

Dimitri, the house leader of the Blue Lions, had missed class for the first time.

Hazy memories of wild blue eyes teased the edge of her mind, but Byleth failed to grasp on to any of them.

Byleth realized she had been watching his seat for a little too long.

She bent back down to organize her notes and, as she did so, took a calming breath.

Her students needed her focused.

“Ashe!”

The freckled boy perked up at the sound of his name.

“We’re reviewing your techniques on horse-riding today. The rest of you please study for the next exam. It will not be open book this time.”

An assorted chorus of, “Yes, professor,” answered her from all sides.

* * *

The quiet, carpeted hallway of the dormitory’s second floor muffled Byleth’s heels.

Evening light lazed through the windows casting long shadows, which made the building feel both peaceful and empty.

Dimitri’s room lay near the very end of the long hallway.

As she neared his door, Byleth tried to remember what happened in her bedroom between the two of them. Whenever she got to the moment she heard Dimitri’s voice, everything kept playing in an unreadable blur.

She had to know if he was alright.

She came to a stop before the double doors Dedue had described to her, which looked the same as the other doors in the hallway, and placed a tentative hand on the wood.

She could hear movement behind them. A consistent, steady movement like the sound of skin on sheets.

She thought she heard the whisper of a low growling.

A tremble found its way along her spine as an unfamiliar instinct helped her put two and two together.

It was an instinct Byleth never had until she presented and it had dogged her every step since that day.

Her hand lifted of its own accord and hovered over the door poising to knock.

Mesmerized, Byleth sank into memories of the past few days, remembering the way her skin prickled when certain students laid eyes on her, their heads turning before her footsteps could be heard, the new timbers she heard in voices, the flashes of strange features in her students’ eyes.

The expressions of her students when Byleth stepped into the classroom as a full-fledged omega.

“Hey now professor, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Byleth pulled her hand back like she’d been struck.

“Sylvain.” She breathed. “You surprised me.”

“Did I? That’s a first. I don’t think you know this, professor, but you don’t scare easy.” The red-head winked as he said this.

Sylvain had been one of the students that reacted strongest, eyes wide with an almost laughable look of shock when she stepped into the classroom. Him, and Felix beside him whose nostrils had flared as his dark brown eyes had gleamed with heavy disbelief.

“Right. I was about to leave.” Byleth turned as she said this. “Dimitri… I think Dimitri is busy.”

Byleth bit her lip as soon as the words left her mouth as she realized how suggestive they sounded.

A mischievous glint shone in his eye.

“That he is.” Sylvain replied. “But do you know _why_?”

Byleth met his gaze. The younger man always portrayed himself as a person of playful insincerity, well known for his womanizing ways and often whiling away the night until early morning.

But there were times when Sylvain spoke with her that the façade slipped and revealed a layer underneath.

Somewhere inside, there was a part that just wanted to see her squirm.

She regarded him with wariness as she lifted her chin and said, “No. Tell me.”

The small smile on Sylvain’s face died as she said this. He regarded her for almost half a minute, his eyes searching hers, perhaps looking for insincerity of any kind because then his eyes narrowed and he said,

“You really don’t know anything about us do you? Not even what you can do to us.”

Byleth’s interest piqued at the wording.

She wondered who else fell in that category with Sylvain.

“Have I done something to him?” Byleth asked.

  
Then a harsh gasping issued from the doors and her head whisked towards the sound. She made to move towards it, but Sylvain’s hands clasped over her shoulders.

He turned her gaze back towards him and said,

“Professor Byleth, he’s in _rut_.”

He searched her eyes for a reaction, but Byleth had none because the word meant nothing to her.

“You don’t know what that is?”

Byleth shook her head.

Sylvain pulled her closer, the length of his hands nearly spanning her shoulders and that wariness returned as he grinned.

His eyes reminded Byleth of a large, smiling fox, if foxes could smile.

“Then why don’t we find out?”

Before Byleth could stop him, Sylvain reached out and knocked.

Whatever happened next, Byleth would have to take responsibility.

“Dimitri, you have a visitor,” Sylvain said in a playful voice.

“Sylvain!” Byleth warned, but overwhelming curiosity stayed her hand.

Sylvain knocked again but this time he said, “The professor’s here. She wants to see if you’re okay.”

The noises ceased behind the door.

In the ensuing quiet Byleth held her breath, her heart picking up speed. Unbidden, the memory of sweet cinnamon entered her mind though it made no sense to her.

The seconds slipped by.

“Professor…” The faintest voice came from behind the door.

Byleth rushed forward, placing her hands in relief against the smooth wood, and spoke into the keyhole. “Dimitri, are you alright?”

Enough time passed that Byleth thought he had fainted when she heard, “Yes… I’m fine.”

He sounded breathless, strained.

He was in rut.

Sylvain’s words repeated in Byleth’s mind and a shiver traveled up her back. She wanted to know what it was about Dimitri’s voice that made her feel so…

“Is there…” She swallowed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Byleth flinched when the door rattled as if someone had shoved at it.

The door shuddered under the sudden pressure, then stilled.

Byleth bent her head closer to the keyhole and, if she had listened, she might’ve heard low, uneven breaths coming from the other side.

“Hey, professor, have pity on your poor student. You’re driving him crazy.”

Byleth had to bite her lip to keep from jumping again. She’d almost forgotten about the young man beside her.

She turned to look at him.

He had been watching her the entire time and the vexing quality of his gaze reminded Byleth that she needed to keep a better eye out these next few months for her troublesome student.

She shook her head at him then caged him with a look that promised a stern conversation afterwards.

Sylvain backed away, hands raised and palms outward as he grinned and gave her another wink.

Then quiet words issued from behind the door and Byleth came back to the keyhole.

“Dimitri?”

“Please, professor, you can go now,” he said.

“Please.”

He sounded like he was begging and the trembling of her spine returned as Byleth’s body reacted with an intrinsic knowledge of the implications.

Byleth fell back, a little overwhelmed at the entire situation, about an arm’s length away from the door.

“Feel better soon,” she murmured, feeling awkward.

But the moment passed and her eyes snapped back to Sylvain who had been trying to back away into his own room.

“Now for you.”

“Wait, Professor, I can explain.”

She snagged his ear and Sylvain yelped, still crying, “Wait, wait, wait. Professor!”

Amused faces peered out of rooms as the student nobles of Garreg Mach watched one of their calmest professors storm down the hall clutching a struggling Sylvain.

Byleth would hear various accounts of the sight for days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed the first chapter!
> 
> I'm a beginner at tags so ideas are welcome. 
> 
> More chapters to come.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

Hanneman had been studying the latest report on crestology when Byleth stepped up to his desk and said,

“Professor Hanneman, I need your help.”

“Of course, Professor Byleth, what do you need of me,” he replied, eyes never leaving his report as he lifted his arm to take a sip of tea.

Encouraged by his casualness, Byleth went straight to the point.

“I’ve presented as an omega.”

Tea spilled everywhere on his shirt and coat as the older man fumbled his tea cup and cried, “By Seiros!”

Byleth hurried to find a towel for the professor.

“Only crest-bearers can become omegas,” she said, coming back with a small cloth to wipe down Hanneman’s ruined clothes. “Was what Rhea told me. So I thought you’d be the best person to talk to.”

Looking like a beast trampled him, the professor allowed Byleth to wipe away some of the cooling tea before he took the cloth himself to wipe off the rest. He took his time, breathing slow and deep as he did so, then took the same cloth to dab at his forehead.

“Yes,” he sighed after most of the tea had been cleaned away. “I suppose I am.”

Byleth held his solemn gaze as he considered her like a man considering the height of a drop before leaping into the waters below.

He sighed again, falling back in his chair like yeast deflating, mustache ruffled, as he gestured to a chair.

“Please, take a seat.”

Byleth let out a small breath of relief, glad he hadn’t outright denied her. Sometimes she had a hard time figuring out what was more important to Hanneman. Crests or friends.

She repositioned the chair so she sat across from him.

Hanneman lifted his glasses to rub at his nose, his forehead, the very picture of a troubled man.

“I swear, Professor Byleth,” he muttered. “I always thought Manuela would be the death of me, but you and her are neck and neck these days.”

Then he stood and began to roam his office, stopping every so often to lift a book off the shelves.

By the time he returned to the desk, he had a substantial stack in his arms.

He placed them down in a neat pile before him, crushing the crestology reports underneath.

Seeing this, Byleth looked up at him unable to hide her surprise.

He returned her look, but ignored the question behind it. “I suppose the archbishop neglected to mention the topic of designations?”

Byleth nodded, slow, unsure of how to react to the genuine care Hanneman seemed to have for her situation.

“Hmph.” He sniffed in disapproval.

Then he slipped a book off the top of the stack and tapped his nail on the title.

“Then start with this. It will explain the difference between all crest-bearer designations and their different abilities and attributes. The rest,” he waved at the remaining pile, “discuss specifics if you wish to delve into certain subjects presented in this book.”

Byleth slid the proffered book over to her side of the table. Nothing about it stood out to her, but knowing Hanneman’s propensity for detail she trusted the man to guide her in the right direction.

As her fingers traced the lettering of the title, her heart felt a little lighter.

The sight of so many books, the physical proof that the trials and tribulations of others like her had been documented so thoroughly over the years, quieted the storm in her chest that had plagued Byleth since her presentation.

For the first time in days, she felt a smile pull at her lips and said,

“Thank you.”

Hanneman tilted his head in acknowledgement. “In return, I ask that you take the time every so often to tell me how you are doing so I can maintain a record of your experience as an omega. You’re a very special case, Professor Byleth, possibly the first in crestological history.”

Then he gave her an encouraging, complete smile that reminded Byleth the man before her was not just a fellow professor at the monastery.

But also her friend.

Perhaps this was just how the professor helped people he cared for.

“It’s hard to be the first for anything,” he said, holding her gaze. “but after working with you for so many months I think I can say with utmost confidence that you’ll do just fine.”

Before Byleth could reply, the professor turned, sat back down in his chair, pulled the now crumpled stack of reports from under the stack of books, and resumed reading.

He became so focused that Byleth was convinced he had forgotten she was even there.

Shaking her head at the antics of the strange but kind-hearted man, Byleth relocated to an open desk with the stack of books, flipped the one Hanneman suggested to the first page, and began to read.

* * *

The candles had burned low by the time Byleth finished reading for the night.

She had several books strewn across the desk before her, all of them open at varying chapters. 

Alphas, betas, and omegas. Heats and ruts. Suppression and scents.

Terms and facts floated and danced in Byleth’s mind as she massaged the bridge of her nose to ease the pressure in her head.

Byleth found plenty on the first few subjects.

The research became scant, however, when she attempted to study suppression, an ability of incredible potential that allowed an alpha or omega to mask their scent altogether.

Her students had the capability to do so, Byleth was certain, but nowhere could she find a set of instructions as to how.

A flare of frustration curled her hands into fists, but she forced the emotion back, burying it under logic and solutions as she always did whenever the ocean of emotions in her heart reached too deep.

Byleth knew her transformation had changed more than just her body. The beating object in her chest had become full, fuller than it had ever been before.

Sometimes, she wondered if one day it would prove too much.

Byleth closed her eyes and exhaled, slow and deliberate.

It was unavoidable, she thought, the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind. She would have to ask her students for help.

She pushed away an offending book and pulled forth another on designation reproduction.

Again, the same problem occurred with heats. The books refused to discuss medicines or herbs that could be used to prevent or reduce their frequency as Byleth had with her monthly cycles.

Like the cycles, heats could occur anywhere from every month to once every year and would replace her bleeding altogether.

The book did have one suggestion however.

She could always reduce the frequency through pregnancy.

The voice of a begging prince flitted through her mind and a warm blush found its way across her cheeks.

Byleth shut the book in distaste.

Thoughts like that wouldn’t do. Wouldn’t do at all.

“I think it’s time to call it a night, Professor Byleth. Even scholars need their rest.” Hanneman said from his corner of the room.

Byleth nodded her weary head in agreement as he began extinguishing candles.

* * *

Byleth turned the corner of the academy building on the way back to her dorm when she saw something that brought her to an abrupt halt.

A figure huddled beside her door swathed in cloth.

Her fingers reached for her blade only to skim the empty space at her hip.

She cursed low under her breath as she remembered leaving the dagger in her room before visiting Hanneman and her skill with magic was still amateur at best.

Garreg Mach was dangerous these days in ways Byleth never could’ve imagined.

Memories of a bleeding professor and unconscious student rose in her mind’s eye and of the creature that did it.

The heavy cloak and blood-red eyes of the skull helmet donned by the Death Knight sometimes appeared in her dreams, standing ominous and still, forever watching from afar as Byleth routed her students always out of reach, ever out of reach from the wicked sharpness of his scythe.

Dreams from which Byleth awoke in a cold sweat because the Death Knight had moved or a student came too close and the scythe came swinging down…

Wisps of flame crackled under her fingertips as Byleth readied a counterattack.

The figure outside her room could well be a spy, one feigning injury.

Byleth struggled to maintain the flame in a throwable form.

Tamping down the uncertainty her disadvantage raised within her, Byleth stepped forward and demanded, “Who are you?”

Years of mercenary work sharpened her voice.

“Speak the truth or I will cut you down.”

The figure stirred.

As Byleth came closer, the cloth became a blue cape, the figure a male, and he was shivering as he lowered the cape to look at her, sweaty blonde hair plastered over unfocused eyes and feverish cheeks.

Byleth stepped back in shock.

From his place on the cobblestones of her dorm, Dimitri Blaiddyd prince of Faerghas gazed up at her with the prominent vertical pupils and sharp elongated canines of a fanged devil.

But this time Byleth recognized him for what he was.

An alpha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and encouraging comments! I feel happy whenever I see someone enjoyed my work. 
> 
> I hope everyone is as excited for the next chapter as I am because we'll be seeing a bit more of our cute prince. 
> 
> Until then!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

Byleth remembered the first time she met the house leader of the Blue Lions.

Neat blonde hair had rested against earnest blue eyes as a full-blooded prince beheld her with glowing admiration. Everything about him had seemed so.

Clean.

But mercenary work had trained Byleth to measure the worth of others beyond what lay on the surface.

Even as the prince shined with a pureness so bright she might’ve had to look away, Byleth had noticed the ghosting of dark circles on the skin under his eyes, hinting at a past trauma or suffering. The way he wielded his lance revealed the intent of someone who had killed before.

And his expression when he struck down those bandits…

Something had hardened him but only just, not quite to the point where it had broken him.

As Byleth gazed upon the shivering young man at her feet, the shadows beneath his eyes seemed darker than ever.

Sometimes, in the quiet moments following a difficult mission or a routine patrol in the pass, he carried himself like a boy that stood at the edge of a precipice no one else could see.

Byleth bent down and placed a hand against his forehead. He felt as feverish as he looked.

Jeralt’s death had spurred Dimitri to speak of his family for the first time. Byleth remembered the bitterness in his voice as he told her, a bitterness and hatred that had matched the ones seething in her own heart.

Like Byleth, he had no one left. 

Sweet cinnamon and musk washed over her.

Byleth’s attention snapped back to the prince as alarm bloomed in her chest.

Rocking back on her heels, she fought the urge to clasp both hands over her nose.

She knew, knew with great certainty.

Dimitri still had days left until the end of his rut.

“What are you doing here, Dimitri?” She asked as she reached under his arm and then propped up against his taller frame to help him to his feet.

She had to get him inside where it was safe.

Alphas were at their most vulnerable during these times, according to Hanneman’s books, confining themselves to a single location anywhere from several days to a week.

His head fell into her shoulder as he whispered, “I’ve been having trouble sleeping,” confirming her suspicions and making her shiver all together.

He had left his room without the blouse of his uniform, his plated gauntlets gone, dress pants wrinkled beyond measure, and had nothing on top but a crumpled undershirt, several buttons undone, exposing the upper part of his torso.

Dimitri shattered his weapons by accident on a regular basis during training and the compact musculature of his chest showed how he managed such a feat.

Byleth recalled that alphas had the disposition to develop a strength and level of aggression on par with beasts of old.

Her eyes strayed to his chest and she bit down hard on her lip to distract herself.

As they made it past the entryway, Dimitir’s cape slid off his body and fell to the floor, forgotten. In the low light, Byleth closed the door behind her with a foot, cursing as the room grew even harder to see, interspersed with the light of dying candles.

Dimitri was her student, Byleth chanted in her head over and over, keeping her eyes pinned on the bed where she planned to deposit him. Despite their closeness in age, she could not lay hands on him without compromising his trust.

Then he shifted and Byleth felt his nose kiss the exposed skin of her uniform.

His fangs scraped the edge of her gland.

Arousal flared so strong within her that she almost tumbled to the floor along with her young charge.

“Dimitri…” she choked. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

An age old desire called from within to let him do as he pleased but Byleth willed it away.

“Professor you smell so good,” his words slurred, his breath a brand against the skin as she struggled to move him.

Dimitri’s feet stumbled over the uneven flooring of her room and Byleth noticed they were bare. He had to have walked a good ways in order to reach Byleth’s dorm and concern rose inside her at the sight.

The books had described ruts as an intense experience prone to bursts of aggression, but the sight of Dimitri’s fluhed, weakened state made her feel a sliver of pity as it reminded her that, at the end of it all, the young man in her arms was human just like everyone else.

Alphas and omegas, let alone crest-bearers, were not gods.

They were almost at the foot of her bed when, in his stupor, the young man grasped at the front of her uniform and his fingers slipped down past the opening of her shirt and into the waistband of her leather skirt.

Byleth gasped and tried to twist away from the unexpected intrusion of human touch against the light hairs above her glands.

In the scuffle, she tripped, bringing Dimitri down with her.

“Ah!”

The air rushed out of her as she landed on her back, arms raised to lessen the impact.

Dimitri caught himself before he landed on top of her, droplets of his sweat hitting her cheek and neck, his chest heaving from the exertion, knee between her legs, and his chest separated from hers by one arm.

He met her gaze and his eyes bore into hers, energizing the space between them as if they both cast a spell of fire between their bodies, raising the hair on her arms.

Her own chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as a memory stirred at the scene.

They had been here before, not together on her bed, but close and he had surveyed her as he did now.

How he had looked at her while she burned from presenting.

Her waistband shifted and Byleth snapped her eyes down to her skirt.

Dimitri had a finger hooked into the fabric.

Bruises peppered the knuckles of his hand and the sense that they had been here before grew stronger.

Fingers wrapped around both her wrists and trapped Byleth’s arms above her head.

“I’ve wanted you like this, underneath me.”

A violent tremble shuddered along her body as her breath tangled in her chest and her mind tried to comprehend what he said. She heard the madness in his voice, driven to this point with the unrelenting fever of his rut.

“Just like this.”

Before Byleth could stop him, or maybe she chose not to because her mind had long stopped working.

He pulled her skirt down.

She gave a choked gasp and Dimitri paused. His hand weighed down on the fabric, exposing her to the cool air.

Then he trailed his gaze with agonizing slowness along her body back up to hers.

Byleth felt it like a physical touch and she shut her eyes, trembling again like a leaf all along her stomach, her breasts, her neck. A warm heat pooled in her stomach, legs pinched tight together in a mess of arousal and consciousness.

He lowered his head towards hers and his lips parted as if to speak.

Then his index found the gentle protrusion of skin between her legs.

And rolled.

A noise Byleth never thought she could make came from her throat as a familiar wet warmth seeped between her legs and her hips thrust up into the delicious pressure against her body.

A dark musk choked her as the hand on her wrists spasmed and she heard a harsh sound from above her.

Still massaging her flesh, his hips pressed down into the sensitive skin of her glands sending a searing, focused pleasure centered between her folds turning her vision white.

A hand cradled her cheek as the room faded back into existence and the pad of a thumb pressed against the fangs Byleth hadn’t realized she’d grown.

She looked up in a daze with light, rapid breaths.

He whispered something but she couldn’t be sure what because the world couldn’t seem to stop spinning.

Then he pressed harder into her canine and tore through the skin.

Byleth tasted blood that wasn’t hers.

“Oh Seiros yes,” He gasped and ground his hips into her glands as his skin burned with the fever of rut, eyes rolling back in base pleasure. Then he did it again and again and again, his finger pressing relentless and abusing into the sensitive protrusion above her folds.

And she wanted it, wanted it so so much.

A pressure began to grow with each meeting of their hips and grew and grew until the thrust of his hips became frantic and uneven and Byleth shut her eyes as her body arched with an anticipation she didn’t understand.

Dimitri snapped his hips forward one last time with a heavy shudder and Byleth whited out a second time.

But this one lasted much, much longer. A layering of pleasure that pulsated over and over between her legs until they shook.

As the final tremors of her first sexual experience faded away, coming back down to where she came, Byleth felt something soft and wet gliding back and forth along her neck, right on the oversensitive gland.

She whimpered and tried to move away but hands held her in place as the ministrations continued. The weight shifted from one gland to the other and the same soft surface glided across the skin.

It wasn’t until the body on top of her collapsed into her arms that Byleth realized Dimitri had been using his tongue to mask both glands on her neck in his scent.

In his mindless state, he had done this to ward off potential future partners until the next time he could take her again.

Byleth shivered at the idea of a ‘next time’.

She closed her eyes and breathed in steady and deep.

Musk no longer muddled the air.

The sexual stimulation they shared would take an entire day off his rut.

“You’re mine,” Dimitri murmured, drifting back into consciousness long enough to speak.

“Mine.”

Byleth’s hand wound itself into his hair of its own accord, knowing he said the words out of a delirious stupor, and ruffled it with a roll of her eyes at the contradiction between his bold words and actual helplessness. She regarded the dozing younger man with an affection that came from the intimacy they had shared as she wondered how she was going to explain this to her students.

The best thing that could happen was losing the right to be their professor, the worst would be to lose their trust.

A deep exhaustion from the past week overwhelmed the anxiety that threatened to fill her chest.

All she wanted to do was go to sleep.

“I did this to you, Dimitri,” she whispered to her now unconscious student as he lay breathing atop her chest. “I’m so sorry.”

With the last of her strength, she repositioned them both so they lay lengthwise on the bed and then rested her head with gratefulness onto her pillow.

Dimitri didn’t stir.

As sleep took hold, Byleth mused on her past experiences with what happened today.

She had seen naked men before, each time by accident as the mercenaries of her father’s company enjoyed being with women in all manners of places.

But this was the first time Byleth had seen and felt sexual pleasure come from something other than a man’s most intimate places.

Byleth glanced at the roughened tips of Dimitri’s fingers and trembled with the memory of their touch.

And if the shooting pleasure she felt every time Dimitri’s rigid length pressed up against the glands of her sex was how she always did.

The last thought Byleth had before falling asleep was how much better it would have felt if it had gone inside of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earn that rated E, baby.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

Byleth awoke to the warm caress of the sun’s rays on her face.

She raised her arm to block the light and made to sit up when a heavy weight on her chest made itself known in the quiet stirring of a mess of blonde hair and pale skin.

Byleth froze.

The events of the previous night collided with her waking mood.

Dimitri stirred but didn’t wake, his back rising and falling with the steadiness of dreamless sleep.

Though a growing turbulence rose in her heart, Byleth took the time to look down at the peaceful face of her unusual bedmate and felt a tenderness in her chest that rang alarm bells in her head.

Byleth got up, careful not to disturb the sleeping young man, and changed from last night’s uniform into a fresh one.

While taking off her undergarments, she had to peel them away, damp as they were with her slick, and paused before throwing it in the laundry basket.

Her eyes dropped to the silhouette in her bed and Byleth worried at her lip, feeling just a little self-conscious at having such personal clothing near another man.

But, she supposed the time for embarrassment had come and passed at this point.

She proceeded to drop the clothes into the container.

After penning a quick letter to the sleeping student in her bed, the last thing Byleth did before leaving her room was leave an extra set of boots at the foot of her bed.

They had belonged to her deceased father and sure to fit Dimitri’s feet better than her own.

Byleth squatted, placed the boots down, then chose to stay where she was.

Resting her arms on her knees, Byleth gazed upon the dark boots of the man she hadn’t known very well, but should’ve.

She had loved her father. Truly. Except the time to express it had only come out at the end when her tears wet his cheeks and he lay dying in her arms.

As she studied those worn out yet sturdy boots, Byleth found she no longer felt the usual pang at the sight of them.

Instead, she felt a gratefulness because with them she could provide some form of small comfort for Dimitri before he woke up.

A small smile tugged at her lips as Byleth wondered what Jeralt would have said if he found out what happened the night prior.

_You always did get ahead of yourself, Byleth._ He might’ve shaken his head. _But just follow through to the end and everything will be okay. _

She didn’t know what he really would’ve said because he wasn’t here anymore.

But Byleth had to follow through.

Getting up, she slung her overcoat on to her shoulders and exited the room, a greater strength behind her step that she hadn’t had this morning.

She steeled herself as her path pointed her towards the faculty offices.

It was time to speak with Rhea.

* * *

Byleth had visited the archbishop many, many times.

With almost every return from a mission, she would report to Rhea in the large chamber leading to her office either by herself or with a retinue of students, whoever the archbishop deemed appropriate to be involved in the meeting.

Now Byleth’s footsteps echoed down the hallways to that same chamber for a very different purpose.

As she prepared to enter Rhea’s office, Byleth took a deep breath as she readied herself one last time before knocking.

“Enter.”

She exhaled, relaxing her shoulders as best she could, and then pushed open the door.

Rhea’s welcoming smile dropped the moment Byleth stepped into her office.

Seeing that, Byleth wanted to turn around and leave, but she forced herself to keep walking.

She made it to the archbishop’s side and had opened her mouth to speak when Rhea’s face contorted into a terrifying sight.

Byleth flinched, but before she could take a step back Rhea reached out and grabbed a hold of her shoulders.

Animalistic pale green eyes glared back into hers as Rhea asked in a menacing whisper, “Who did this to you?”

Byleth had always thought nothing could rile Rhea except for the most heinous of acts but it seems she had been wrong.

Unless what she and Dimitri did together constituted something equivalent to a crime in Rhea’s eyes.

Byleth chose not to follow that train of thought.

“I think you’re misunderstanding the situation,” she began.

“No.” Rhea said. “I am not. Now tell me who did this to you.”

Byleth placed her hand over one of Rhea’s and focused as much sincerity as she could into her eyes.

“No one hurt me, Rhea. I’m okay.”

That seemed to placate the woman somewhat, but she continued to hold Byleth’s gaze as she said, “So what really happened?”

As Byleth opened her mouth to speak, she felt her lip tremble as the enormity of what she was about to say hit her all at once.

“Actually, I came here to tell you today that I…”

Rhea listened in quiet intensity.

“I shared a rut with another student last night,” Byleth winced when Rhea’s fingers squeezed her shoulders, just once. “At first I was just trying to help him but I lost control of the situation and the next thing I knew…”

Any other person and Byleth would’ve stopped there never to speak again for the rest of her life if she could, but Rhea kept a steady gaze even though Byleth had the feeling the older woman exerted great effort to do so.

“He marked me at the end, no mating bites. I think… I think he had just enough self-control to hold back.”

Byleth remembered how his tongue had felt against her neck and fought back a shiver.

“The thing is, Rhea, he initiated everything, but I’m the one that let him. And I _enjoyed_ _every moment_.”

Byleth had to look away as the shame burning her face proved too much.

“Byleth look at me.”

“No.” Byleth knew she sounded almost petulant when she said that, but right now she didn’t have it in her to care.

“Look at me.” A hand cupped the side of her cheek and guided Byleth back to face the woman before her.

“You did nothing wrong.” Rhea told her and the sureness of her words took hold of Byleth’s heart. “You’ve only just presented and an alpha in rut purposefully sought out your bedroom to come see you. If your partner had been not a student but one of the faculty, I would have had them jailed for such an irresponsible act.” The coldness in her voice told Byleth that Rhea wasn’t lying.

“Rut makes the alpha unpredictable. He could just as easily have forced you or wounded you in a moment of frenzy.” Her eyes took on a harsh light. “I could have him removed if that is what you think best.”

“No!” Byleth exclaimed, her heart leaping at the thought. “That won’t be necessary. If everything you say is what you truly believe, then let me talk to him.”

“Byleth.”

She held the archbishop’s gaze with complete conviction as Byleth said, “He won’t hurt me, And I’m not afraid of him.”

Rhea watched her for a long time, her hands sliding from her shoulders as she did so and clasping back in their customary place before her waist. Then she shook her head and said,

“Do what you will. But remember this.”

Rhea’s voice took on a low tone as if reciting a prophecy.

“An alpha will do whatever it takes to meet their goals whether it is to mate with the omega of their choosing or conquer the known world. And even if they should burn the heavens and earth around them with the might of their wrath, they would do so simply because it is easier to follow their own nature.”

Rhea’s gaze turned to one of sadness as if something were the inevitable.

“You have yet to witness an alpha in blood-wrath, Byleth. And when you do, there is nothing else I can do for you but to pray. For us all to pray.”

Then Rhea tilted her head, signaling the end of her speech and Byleth did likewise.

She thanked the archbishop for her time and, after requesting that she be allowed a few days off to regain her normal scent, Byleth walked away from Rhea’s office with both hope and foreboding in her heart.

* * *

Byleth was almost to her room when a whisper of a voice spoke up.

“Professor Byleth.”

Byleth turned her head and came face to face with blackened, weary eyes framed by blue bangs that only made them look darker.

“Marianne.”

A student of the Golden Deer house, the tall but thin wisp of a girl stood in the shadows of the dormitory.

“I didn’t think I’d find you here.” She murmured.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Byleth asked, curious.

“I was looking for you actually.” She gave a wan smile. “I wanted to let you know that…” She trailed off and Byleth knew she would have to encourage her otherwise the girl would have no qualms struggling to find her voice for many long minutes.

Byleth climbed the steps to where the girl stood, just feet away from Byleth’s dorm. “To let me know…?” She smiled and reached out to hold one of Marianne’s clasped hands in a gentle grasp.

The girl had enough trust to let her.

The hand felt clammy to the touch and as she came close enough grab ahold of her, Byleth noticed Marianne’s head rise to look at her, quick, before ducking back down and hiding her expression again.

“Something wrong?” Byleth asked with as much kindness as she could.

The girl had gotten much better since Byleth first came upon her near the stables so many months ago but her self-confidence still had a ways to go.

“I… I didn’t know you were an omega, professor.” She whispered.

Byleth’s heart skipped in surprise.

Marianne winced and Byleth realized she had squeezed her hand too hard.

“Sorry.” Byleth apologized.

She let go and Marianne’s hands clasped back together.

“How do you know?” Byleth asked. “Are you one too? Is this why you came to see me?”

Perhaps her questions had been too many and pointed because Marianne shook her head so hard that Byleth worried she might hurt herself.

“N-no! No! I…” Byleth wasn’t sure if that had been her answer to both questions. “I actually came here to tell you…” She swallowed.

She began wringing her hands and Byleth had been about to reach out for her again when Marianne looked up and said, sounding a little bolder,

“I want to join your class.”

“Oh.” Pleasant surprise filtered through her confusion followed by a sense of relief. The knowledge of Byleth’s designation hadn’t turned Marianne away. “I see.”

“Are you skipping class today, professor?”

Byleth felt a full blush cover her cheeks. She had recruited her first student from a different house and had started off their student-teacher relationship with such a bad impression.

“No, no I’m not Marianne. I… think you might know why I’m not in class today since…” Byleth reminded herself to never play cards again because she could no longer hold a poker face worth anything.

She smiled at her again and this time Byleth could read amusement in her eyes.

“I’m not an omega, professor, but I do have the ability to tell what designation you are if you don’t suppress.” Marianne said. “And yes, I can tell you’ve been with an alpha.”

Byleth fought to keep her face neutral but the thought that even a beta like Marianne could pick up on the proof of the previous night brought a visible wince to her features.

But Marianne hadn’t noticed because she kept speaking. “After all, it’s because I…”

Then trailed off again.

Byleth watched as the quiet strength that had entered her eyes a minute ago faded and she went back to being her demure self.

“I have the crest of beasts.”

Byleth didn’t recognize the name, but it seemed to have a great negative connotation because Marianne looked so defeated when she spoke.

“I don’t understand—” Byleth began.

“It’s okay, professor,” Marianne said as she drew away and began creating distance between the two of them. “It just means I share abilities with crest-bearers that have designations even though I don’t have one myself. That’s all.”

Byleth knew a lie when she saw one but before she could ask questions Marianne retreated even further away, saying,

“I will attend classes on Monday when you’re back in class, professor. Goodbye.”

Then the girl walked off, leaving Byleth alone again in front of her room.

* * *

Byleth open the door to her room feeling off-kilter from the encounter she just had only to come upon an empty bed.

She spent almost a minute at the doorway, staring at the bed, making sense of what she was seeing.

Byleth walked up to the piece of furniture and felt the soft material of the mattress.

He had taken the sheets.

Amusement grew in her chest as she saw that he had taken the boots as well along with Byleth’s note.

Dimitri’s rut had passed.

Byleth felt the familiar trembling of her spine as she remembered how she had a hand in the passing, the mess she made of her underclothes…

The basket was gone.

Amusement changed to sheer embarrassment in an instant.

“Dimitri!” Byleth whispered, clapping both hands over face. She fell back on to her bare mattress. “Of all things…!”

The moment her back hit the bed, Byleth stayed there, breathing. She closed her eyes.

Shame creeped up in her consciousness and Byleth buried it again under a flurry of other, more important thoughts.

She raced through a list of all the subjects she had left to study, ran through it a second time, and for good measure ran through it a third. She also added a note to ask Hanneman about the crest of beasts if she had the time. She had too many questions left to answer and Byleth could not afford to waste the precious time Rhea had granted her.

The sooner she came to understand her own body and those of her students, the more prepared they would all be when the schemes and the power plays and the plots of the unseen enemies around them came to pass. 

Byleth took in a deep breath, feeling the air expand her lungs, her chest to its max capacity.

She had to keep them safe. Every, last one of them to now include Marianne. 

As determination entered her heart at the thought, another one surfaced just as quick.

Blood-wrath.

The words stuck like an unwanted cobweb on one’s sleeve and she felt a foreboding again. Not for the first time, Byleth wished Rhea hadn’t told her.

Another complication, another factor to consider when fighting against their opponents. An ability alphas used in times of war, painting the image of a history that was long, terrible, and bloody.

Byleth exhaled and felt the foreign beating of her heart thudding steady in her throat.

Cobwebs were harmless, but the ones Byleth associated with blood-wrath had a spider in the strands.

Climbing ever closer to the sleeve.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

“My, my Annette did you see the bruise Sylvain had on his cheek?” Mercedes asked with genuine concern. “I wonder who did that to him?”

Byleth had been picking at a dish of sweet bread immersed in thick syrup when the question brought her attention back to the low roar of the crowded dining hall and the conversation at hand.

“Don’t be worrying about him, Mercedes,” Annette chided. “He probably got it from playing around with all those poor girls!”

“I see.” The gentle blonde said no more and returned to eating, her love of all things sweet evident in her eagerness.

As she did, the sweetest scent of fresh apples wafted in Byleth’s direction. Somehow Byleth knew.

Mercedes was happy.

Byleth nibbled at the bread, doing her best to show more of an appetite, though the past few days spent in near solitude with an engrossed Hanneman and his collection of books had done little to help.

She also wondered if Sylvain’s bruise had anything to do with what happened outside Dimitri’s room, though she knew not to get too ahead of herself.

Byleth set down her fork. “This is the first time either of you have invited _me_ to lunch.”

“Because you’re our favorite professor?” Annette beamed at her and the brightness of her expression was matched only by the vivid orange of her hair. Then her mouth pulled into a small frown. “We were worried about you. It was the first time you couldn’t come to class and when Dimitri didn’t know either we…”

“I see.” Byleth said, understanding. “Thank you. For looking out for me.”

Mercedes smiled in welcome.

“I have… many questions for you.”

“Go ahead, professor.” Mercedes said.

“Are both of you omegas?” The question slipped from Byleth’s lips with ease even though she had agonized for what felt like days over how she should approach this sort of conversation with her own students.

Annette blushed as if Byleth had cursed or something equivalent while Mercedes smiled, a kind of understanding in her eyes.

“Yes,” the blonde replied. “We are. I’m impressed, professor. You recognized Annette for one even when she’s suppressing. It took me years to figure out how to do that.”

Annette leaned in close as if afraid of anyone listening in, though her smiled hadn’t waned, and added, “Our professor’s not an ordinary omega that’s why.”

Annette meant it as a compliment but a small stone dropped in Byleth’s stomach when she heard the words.

She was already different, having presented as an omega much later than others, but to be even more particular than that?

Byleth wasn’t a follower of Seiros but she prayed for more peaceful days ahead to follow this troubling period of her life.

A hand clasped over her own and Mercedes said with a kind smile and the soothing scent of spring washed over her, “Don’t worry, professor. Annette and I will teach you everything we know.”

The skin contact offered a small relief in Byleth’s chest as she gazed back at her students.

“Thank you both.”

* * *

“You need feel the pull in here.”

Annette gestured to Byleth’s abdomen as Byleth inhaled for what felt like the hundredth time as she groped for a sensation of some sort that just didn’t seem to exist in her body.

For a teacher, Byleth was doing a poor job of learning.

“Like this?”

“Your scent is still there, professor.”

Byleth cursed under her breath and heard a giggle from where Mercedes had settled on Annette’s desk chair.

“It’s okay, professor. Try again. You should feel a pressure on your glands when the spell works and then it’ll go away.”

Byleth reached as far into her magic reserves as possible, willing the power to surface, to reveal itself.

She felt nothing, not even a sliver of power to grasp on to.

Byleth bit back a groan born of a frustration she had long attributed to her ability to cast magic.

“It’s possible…”

“What did you say?” Annette asked, looking over, giving Byleth a much needed break.

The girl worked her harder than Byleth worked her own students, an attribute of hers that Byleth had long tried to temper with lessons in relaxation, though Byleth suspected Annette’s passion for magic might by bottomless.

“She might not be able to…” Mercedes said, thoughtful.

“Not be able to do what?”

“Perhaps it has something to do with how late she presented,” Mercedes crossed and uncrossed her legs in her thoughtfulness. “And if she can’t suppress, then herbs might not work either.”

“There are herbs?” Byleth asked, feeling hopeful despite the direction the conversation seemed to be going in.

“Yes, but Mercie has a point,” Annette worried at her lip. “I presented at twelve years and could not suppress until my fifteenth. Herbs too. They wouldn’t take effect until after I had my heats for a year.”

Byleth tried to keep the disappointment from showing but the next thing she knew Annette and Mercedes had surrounded her and held on to both her hands.

Their gestures were a pleasant surprise and Byleth found herself appreciating the attention.

“When it’s time for your heat, professor, we’ll be there for you.” Mercedes said.

Quiet, gentle Mercedes. Byleth knew the other students also thought of her as motherly except Byleth never quite understood how accurate that description held to her student until now. Her gentle hold made Byleth wonder if her own mother would have held her like so if she had survived the birth.

“Between Mercie and I, we have enough experience to last a lifetime.” Annette blushed ever harder as she spoke.

Annette ever so determined and diligent. Byleth thought she would make a good teacher one day, though she also suspected the girl would more than likely end up as a scholar due to her great love of books.

Byleth couldn’t remember the last time she had ever connected so well with other women.

Byleth couldn’t remember the last time she ever had one as a friend.

“I don’t know what to say.” She felt her throat tighten and wondered why, even though no one was hurt or dead or dying, she wanted so very much to cry.

“You don’t have to say anything, professor.”

“For you, we would follow you to the ends of the earth.”

Byleth bowed her head low so that her hair could hide her face.

She didn’t want her students to see her tears.

* * *

Byleth walked into her room with puffy eyes and almost tripped over the form of a kneeling prince.

“Dimitri!” she cried as she stopped herself right before she could collide with the younger man.

“Professor, I’m sorry.” Head bowed, fine, neat pants pressing into her floor. Byleth swept her floors daily but she didn’t think a prince’s garments belonged anywhere near there.

She spied her clothing basket back in its original spot, a mess of sheets half pulled over on the bed as if the prince had been tucking them in when he heard her footsteps and postured for her entrance.

He hadn’t brought the boots back with him and Byleth wondered if perhaps carrying the sheets and the basket had been punishment enough for her student.

“Dimitri, please get up. You were in rut. You didn’t have any control—”

“That’s no excuse!” The blonde exclaimed, remaining as he was. “I… I did things to you… said… said unacceptable things and broke your trust. I do not deserve to be house leader any longer. Or your student. I—”

“Oh for gods sake, Dimitri, stand up.” Byleth reached down, looped an arm under his shoulder, and tugged.

Dimitri let her pull him up without resistance and as wide, blue eyes rose to meet hers, Byleth had a feeling she had simply surprised him into submission.

He stood to his full height and Byleth found that she had pulled him little closer than she liked, his nose only a few inches away from hers.

The smell of a deep, burning oak met her nose and Byleth wondered if that was his neutral smell.

Byleth spoke before she could regret her actions. “You were in rut, Dimitri. Although everyone seems to think alphas a danger to others during that time, I think someone could have also taken advantage of you. You could barely stand and—”

“Why were you crying?” Dimitri interrupted her.

He brought a hand up to her cheek and traced the swollen skin under her eyes.

The sudden touch had Byleth pulling back, but his grip tightened holding her in place.

His pupils sharpened. 

“Who did this?” he demanded and suddenly Byleth had the urge to laugh because of how much the scene mirrored Rhea’s reaction just days ago.

Byleth didn’t like the way things have changed.

For ten odd years of her life, she had fought and lived as a mercenary. Jobs were accepted and dealt with accordingly, the mercenaries belonging to a company yet individuals in all respects.

Her blade had earned her the name of demon.

Then she shed the title and became a teacher at Garreg Mach making connections she never imagined having even a year ago, forging a name for herself as an instructor built on both independence and teamwork.

Now it felt like almost everyone she came across in the past week worried for her well-being as if she could no longer defend or care for herself, as if she had earned some new fragility no one had seen in her before until her presentation. 

Byleth _hated—_

She shook her head, both at Dimitri’s question and to shake away the dark path that thought would’ve taken her. 

“No one, Dimitri. Now let go.” She hadn’t meant for her voice to come out so cold, but she needed to set boundaries and set them now.

Her tone made him flinch and he stumbled back as immediate guilt painted his features.

“Seiros, what is wrong with me?” He asked as he placed a hand over his face.

A repulsive odor arose in the room as Dimitri’s negative emotions overwhelmed him and he looked so much like she had kicked him away that it hurt. 

“Nothing. There’s nothing wrong with you.” She wanted to comfort him, reassure him somehow, but she had drawn a line so she moved no further, not even to reach out to him. “It’s me, it’s… it’s this _body_…” The words poured out of her, try as she might’ve to stop it, and it was like a small dam had been lifted.

Byleth gripped hard on the gland lacing her wrist and a bitterness crept into her voice.

“You would have never had your rut if I hadn’t presented. There wouldn’t have been any fever or wandering around suffering and looking for my room or feeling so terrible that you’d kneel to apologize for something you shouldn’t be apologizing for. You wouldn’t be feeling this way if I hadn’t. It’s not you who have failed but I as your teacher and someone you trusted most.”

She breathed in a shaky breath.

“And I’m sorry, Dimitri. I’m so sorry.”

As the last of her words trickled out, the air between them felt tense, almost tangible as Byleth waited.

For what, she didn’t know. 

Dimitri had his head bent towards the ground, hair covering his eyes. His hands rested back at his sides.

His scent had become confusing and Byleth could no longer figure out what any of it meant. Byleth found herself holding her breath.

“I didn’t hurt you?” He sounded careful, as if testing the waters.

He expressed everything with his eyes: his laughter, his happiness, his fear, his insecurities.

So Byleth couldn’t be sure what the question was leading to when blonde hair blanketed his eyes still as he continued looking down.

“No…” Byleth watched him, looking for something. Anything.

For once, she couldn’t tell what he seemed to be thinking. And that felt dangerous somehow, dangerous in a way that made her skin feel tight and sent light shivers along her skin.

The sense that she needed to run.

“Then…”

Those expressive eyes of his rose to meet hers and Byleth’s mouth turned dry. A piercing, burning blue. 

“Did you enjoy it too. Like I did?”

The sudden turn of his mind uprooted her and, to Byleth’s horror, she tasted the familiar iron hint of blood as her fangs extended past her upper lip.

She found herself backing away and Dimitri swept forward like a string connected them and Byleth’s back met the door as he pressed in close, almost as close as they had been before.

His scent still confused her, a strange mix of conflicting smells.

As he placed his arms on either side of her, not touching, though Byleth could feel the warmth of his skin emanating through his uniform, he whispered, 

“I need to tell you something, professor. It’s about what happened that day, when you left me in your room alone.”

An image of the prince’s peaceful sleeping form came to Byleth’s mind and she wondered what in the world this person was talking about. 

But Dimitri didn’t wait for Byleth to speak before he continued.

“I was ashamed of myself when I came to. Deathly ashamed. I thought even if all the fires in the world burned me to ashes it wouldn’t be enough for the pain I must’ve caused you. And yet…”

He grit his teeth, though his eyes never left her face.

Byleth’s mind whirled as she tried to keep up with his train of thought.

“And yet, I could smell you in the sheets, on my clothes, my skin. I could smell your pleasure in the clothes you left behind.”

Byleth’s breath hitched as he said this, the words shooting straight to her core.

Blood trickled from the corner of his lip where his fangs pierced the skin from the force of his bite.

“You shouldn’t feel the way you do, professor. You shouldn’t apologize. You don’t know, you just don’t know what I did when I woke up in your room, in your bed, with all those temptations.”

He slid his hands down so they rested alongside her hips, still not touching, his breath warm against her nose.

“I had to do it, professor, I couldn’t stop myself. Like an animal. I did it like an animal.”

The desperation in his voice pressed like a lathe against the growing heat stirring in her stomach.

A terrible curiosity overcame her senses.

“What…” Byleth couldn’t control the breathlessness of her own voice. “What did you do?”

Her words elicited a low groan from the alpha before her. A tremor shook his entire body and Byleth’s eyes slid down before she could stop herself and saw the press of a growing erection against the fabric.

She flicked her eyes back up to the watchful blue of Dimitri’s gaze. He had seen her looking and she felt more and more the uneven touch of his breaths on her skin.

“I found your basket.” He chuckled with such helplessness that Byleth felt one slip out from her too.

She must already be crazy.

“And I opened it and found… found your…” He let out a shuddering breath and Byleth squeezed her legs together to control the searing heat that struck her.

He slid his face toward hers and then past it as he spoke into her ear.

“Once I smelled you on it, my mind stopped questioning, stopped seeing reason, stopped…”

He trembled.

Then he came so close to her ear that she felt the ghosting of his lips against the skin.

“So I wrapped you around me,” he growled, “and I fucked into your clothes like a beast and it smelled like you like I was inside of you like I was fucking inside of you like I…”

Byleth was shaking.

He still hadn’t touched her, his hands trembling too but plastered to the door. He was fully erect to where Byleth could see a wetness where the tip met the fabric.

“I wanted you so much, professor. So so much I couldn’t stop, couldn’t stop from fucking into your underclothes like a wretched beast over and over and over again until I— Seiros! I wanted to be inside you, warm and wet and spread for me like you wanted to fuck me like I wanted to fuck you and I wanted … I wanted… I… ”

His breathing cut off in a choke as a tremendous shudder rocked his entire body.

Byleth fell apart and came together with him.

She had come untouched.

Harsh breathing filled Byleth’s ears, the firm press of the door against her back, and she came to at Dimitri’s feet, her knees a crumpled heap underneath her.

She had lost the strength in her legs.

Dimitri shuddered and shook, his hips then starting to twitch forward as he produced the last of his spend, his arousal thick and heavy in the air.

The movements came to a stop after some time.

Byleth waited for her sex to stop sending waves of slick down her clothes as her mind drifted on a high created by her release.

And then a voice spoke from above.

“Now…” Dimitri said in a quiet voice. “Now you know what I thought of you that day, professor, how depraved I was.”

Byleth looked up at him in a haze and saw the wide dilation of his pupils as he gazed down at her.

“I came to you in rut when you had just presented with no knowledge of how the world works for people like you and I. That’s why you can’t blame yourself, professor, no…”

He sank to the floor so that he became level with her and then brought his head to the ground in a deep supplication, an action that Byleth had to process several times in her lust-addled mind to understand.

“No… I should’ve had more control over myself as an alpha. As a prince. Please don’t make any more excuses for me. I deserve nothing less than expulsion. But know I would do anything for you. I would even kill for you.” His voice turned savage for an instant before mellowing out again.

“So I leave it up to you, Professor Byleth, what you want with me. You deserve to make the final judgement and I place my life in your hands.”

He continued to stay where he was, palms facing upwards, his hair splayed against the ground.

Byleth stared at him for a good while, her mind beginning to link back together as it rebuilt into a working train of thought.

Dimitri didn’t move and waited for her response. 

Byleth had the feeling he would hold the position for hours if she let him.

She shook her head at the absurdity of it all, at the circumstances that placed them in this ridiculous situation.

Byleth had tried to draw the line, but perhaps the reason she failed was because the line had long been crossed. 

She reached out and placed a gentle hand on Dimitri’s head.

He shifted in surprise and Byleth proceeded to ruffle his hair as she had before except this time she accepted the affection she felt when she did it.

“Promise me one thing, Dimitri. Just one thing.”

Dimitri stayed still, as if trying to make sense of what she seemed to be saying.

Then he raised his body, hesitant as if in disbelief, so he could glance in her direction.

“What is it, professor?” He sounded resigned, yet hopeful at the same time, if such a thing were possible.

Byleth took the time to look at him. Really look at him.

Being a crest-bearer made things different. The world treated one as such accordingly. Being an alpha or an omega made things difficult, much more so than they had to be.

As she took in the sight of the young man before her, Byleth thought back to the weeks and months that brought the two of them and their house up until this point: the struggles, the lessons learned, the dangers, and the tragedy.

What happened today would only be one more challenge they’d have to face together as teacher and student. As partners on the battlefield.

And, though Byleth knew the events of the past week would forever impact the nature of the relationship, as friends.

This was a point in time that, despite its complications, allowed for her to make a quiet promise on her own.

“Come to back to class, Dimitri.” She said.

As the prince looked up in great surprise Byleth gave him a small but genuine smile.

So that she could always be by his side.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

Byleth knelt amongst the pale blue of the forget-me-nots, small pail in hand watering them in intervals, her hand slipping every so often when she became lost in thought.

They talked for a little while longer that night after Dimitri returned her things, discussing everything from the blue lions to alternate training methods for certain students to anything except the beast in the room, ever dancing around the irreversible change in their relationship.

After all they had…

Byleth flushed harder than she ever had in her life and hid her face in her arms.

They had done things that no student or teacher should be allowed to do, torn down barriers that had been erected for good reason. Like the raising of the dam around her soul so did the walls holding back the floods of emotional entanglement and attachment that threatened to plague Byleth’s heart.

Byleth grit her teeth as she drew on her mental defenses against the mess of her thoughts. She would stay strong and push through these dangerous waters for as long as she could, as hard as she could. Because her students depended on her to do so and she couldn’t afford to delve any deeper with Dimitri.

And yet… and yet.

He had touched her where no one else had touched her before and Byleth wanted him to do it again—

She sucked in a harsh breath and forced her attentions back to the flowers before her.

They centered her.

Blooming with a loveliness of cultivation and growth, the simple straightforwardness of their beauty pleased her.

Seed, fertilize, water, and trim if needed then start all over again, a smooth, steady cycle.

The pail almost slipped from her fingers.

“Are you alright, professor?” A baritone of a voice spoke from over her shoulder and despite Byleth’s agitation she made a gradual turn towards the source.

“Dedue…"

The young duscan man was watching her while Byleth fought to school her face into a neutral expression.

Then he offered his hand, palm outstretched.

“May I?”

He frequented the gardens so often that his appearance hadn’t startled her.

“Of course.”

Byleth handed him the pail as he knelt beside her and began to water the flowers with straight, steady pours.

They didn’t speak for many long minutes, something Byleth appreciated as her body calmed down, and Dedue proceeded to water the rest of the plants in the same row. The greenhouse was empty save for the worker a few rows away tending to a fresh growth of tomatoes.

“His highness is distraught.”

Although Dedue spoke as he always did, slow and deliberate, the words shook Byleth out of her reverie.

“How so?” She tried to keep her voice steady but her last word wavered ever so much that Dedue paused in his work.

That pause didn’t last very long, however, as Dedue collected his thoughts.

He began to water again, this time a nearby lavender plant. “I think it is because of you, professor.”

His voice held no blame.

She glanced at his face and her student had eyes only for what was in front of him.

“Is it that obvious?” She asked.

“Only for those who know what to look for.” Dedue replied.

Byleth nodded in quiet agreement.

She turned to look back at the flowers.

Her return to teaching had happened with less difficulty than she expected, a positive in the sea of challenges that had overwhelmed her the first week of presenting.

But things had changed with Dimitri.

Her glands tingled with memory as Byleth thought back to the last few days.

From the press of his gaze on her back or her neck to the touch that lingered for a little too long when handing her things to the flash of elongated pupils when he realized Byleth did not suppress.

With these small signs, Byleth wondered if the entire class didn’t suspect something by now. With how close the blue lions were, including Marianne, her students might as well all know where to look.

“He may do something reckless soon. I would be ready, professor.” Dedue said, a warning in his calm voice.

“You weren’t going to tell me something like: never go near his highness again?” Byleth asked.

Dedue watched her again as Byleth grinned at him in jest, the young man’s large presence a relaxing source in and of itself.

A small smile quirked his lips. “I don’t think you would listen even if I did.”

Byleth thought Dedue would look much less intimidating if he smiled like that more often.

“I listen, Dedue. I always do.” She replied.

“Yes, but not when it comes to his highness.” Dedue gave her a pointed look and Byleth found herself ducking her head a little as the truth embarrassed her further.

“I make it my mission to keep all of you alive, Dedue. You know that.”

Dedue nodded in his slow, meticulous way. “I do.”

They both kneeled together in a corner of the greenhouse for a while longer, appreciating the flowers of Fodlan.

She wondered how her student would feel if he knew the complicated relationship between his highness and his teacher.

“I want you to know,” Byleth said, the words for Dedue’s ears but, in a way, also for the eight other young men and women in her house. “That I plan on staying with all of you to the end.”

Dedue turned his head and his steady gaze met with her own determined ones. She felt a fond smile pulling at her lips as she took in the sight of the person she deemed one of the foundations of the blue lions.

He didn’t question her, what she meant by the end, and Byleth wasn’t sure she knew either.

But Byleth felt it in her soul, that one day Dedue would be one of those that sacrificed themselves for Dimitri should the worst come to pass and the house would suffer for it.

“So don’t leave me before we get there.”

Dedue said nothing, but he turned away.

A wordless rejection.

Seeing this, Byleth felt uncertainty creep into her heart as she looked away too.

They talked of death even amidst the beauty of the flowers and the stark contrast reminded Byleth of the promise she made Dimitri.

Dangers stirred beneath the surface of the tentative peace they had and now Byleth found herself questioning just how feasible such a promise had been in the face of what was to come.

The plans of the church, the ambitions of Rhea, the revelations in the holy tomb.

The promises Byleth made would only be too easy to break.

* * *

The holy tomb was ancient and cavernous.

“I never knew there was something like this underneath the monastery.” Ingrid said, her voice filled with awe.

It must’ve been like seeing her stories come to life, though there were no regal knights or heroes to be found here.

Only the dead.

“Come, Byleth,” Rhea gestured. “Sit on the throne. We will have the revelation, I know it.”

As Byleth walked past the archbishop’s outstretched hand to the stone steps of the looming structure, she remembered when Rhea first spoke to her about the matter.

The manic gleam in the woman’s eyes were the same as they looked now.

Still walking, Byleth passed Dimitri on her way there and in her focus to reach the throne she brushed his shoulder by accident and he turned to meet her glance with a pair of sharpened pupils.

“Be careful.” She thought she heard him whisper, but then it all seemed to fall away in a temporary lull as she approached her goal.

Though there was only silence all around them, the throne seemed almost...

Alive.

Byleth reached the seat and turned, meeting Rhea’s longing gaze and catching Dimitri’s eye in the process.

He seemed to be watching her now with more intensity than any other time she could remember, though she didn’t know why.

Then, before anyone could move or take another breath, she sank on to the cool, dusty stone.

A chill seeped through her leggings and Byleth’s skin erupted in gooseflesh as she fought back a shudder.

At first, nothing happened.

Byleth repositioned her limbs on the throne’s armrests but felt nothing out of the ordinary. She looked up to see what Rhea wanted her to do next.

Then, just as heavy disappointment marred Rhea’s features, a force surged through Byleth’s body.

She tore her lip fighting back a scream as an overwhelming power swept through her being and realized her fangs had grown.

“Professor!” Several voices cried out.

Eyes shut tight as the energy seemed to solidify her to the stone below, Byleth gasped as the intensity grew and grew and grew—

Then burst out of her in a wave and her body shuddered with an instant relief as if she had been holding back mountains and mountains of water then released it all at once.

Breaths coming out in loud gasps, Byleth couldn’t bring herself to look up, the ordeal having exhausted her enough to need rest.

Multiple pairs of hands laid themselves on different parts of her and a cacophony of smells assaulted her senses. Byleth thought she heard Ingrid and Ashe calling her from a distance. Everyone else was silent for some reason.

A hand cradled the side of her head and then helped raise her head and Byleth cracked open her eyes.

Before her stood Sylvain and Mercedes, still cradled in someone else’s hand, she saw Annette and Felx a little ways back. Eyes turning down, she saw Dimitri kneeling at the armrest of the throne with his hand against her cheek. He had been holding her head up and his eyes were filled with an awe she never knew could be directed at her.

Then Byleth realized several things.

The aromas in the air were the combined strengths of these students’ natural scents.

Felix smelled like cedars on the cusp of fall while Sylvain reminded her of a forest after the rain. That they both reminded her of trees did much to bring a hint of amusement to her heart despite everything.

Annette surprised her with hints of sweetpea, a flower Byleth had come across a few times in her travels. She didn’t know scents could smell like flowers.

As she looked around at all her students, Byleth concluded that the house of blue lions had the most crest designations in the entire academy, outnumbering the black eagles and far surpassing the golden deer.

And somehow every single alpha and omega in the room had stopped suppressing and everyone surrounding her had transformed. 

The throne had awakened something inside her and Byleth felt it coursing through her skin, a shimmering power that waited to be unleashed just when the time was right.

Then armored boots came storming into the room from behind and her students whipped around.

Byleth tried to make sense of the scene as soldiers filed in and surrounded them on all sides.

_Imperial_ soldiers.

An ambush.

Dimitri rose, somehow unphased by the sight despite the others’ natural shock of seeing imperial colors on breastplates and the horrible implication behind their appearance.

He did it slow and deliberate, a quiet predator as his hand slipped away from her face, but not before he caressed the skin there in a promise of a gesture. A promise of what Byleth didn’t know but as she also rose to her feet on somewhat unsteady legs she slipped her hand around his fingers and gave a quick, gentle squeeze in return.

Then she brought it back to her hip as her dominant hand clasped on to the hilt of her sword.

“How nice of you to lead us here.” Spoke an unfamiliar man as he set himself apart from the group of soldiers.

Imperial soldiers in the monastery, citizens of the Adrestian Empire.

“Now if you don’t mind, Archbishop Rhea, we’ll be helping ourselves to these crest stones.” A grin promising a love of violence skewed his lips. The expression of an experienced killer. “Interfere and die.”

“You defile the tomb of the greats, low worm.” Rhea cursed him. “May your bones burn when I punish you for your heresy.”

Byleth’s heart beat with steeled calmness, her hands steady and confident.

She had faced worse odds than this and she believed in herself and her students for she had trained them herself. As the blue lions unsheathed swords, readied spells, axes, and spears, the odds shifted ever more in their favor.

That was until the ranks parted to reveal the flame emperor, clad in his striking red feathers and peculiar mask.

And Dimitri charged.

* * *

The flame emperor.

Blood splattered against the tombstone of a long dead cleric as Byleth beheaded her opponent in one winding stroke of the creator sword.

She didn’t know anything about him really except that he had been involved to an extent in her father’s death and had murdered Dimitri’s family with violence and death.

Another soldier fell as Byleth cut him down with a strength coursing through her that she never felt before.

Although she should’ve felt some hatred or anger towards the mysterious figure, something held her back. Perhaps it was because Dimitri’s own hatred for him had burned with the fuel of so many years so much so that it diluted her own.

Sylvain cleaved a soldier part way down the middle in a brutal throw of his short spear, face alight with an unfamiliar savagery. 

Annette disintegrated a mage with fire hotter and brighter than any spell Byleth had seen her wield.

Ashe sustained a terrible blow to the chest from an arrow and Mercedes’ healing blazed with power as the bleeding came to an abrupt stop.

Something had changed after Byleth’s seat on the throne, something that empowered those with designations.

Felix gave a savage roar as he parted another soldier of his head.

“Take the opening!” Dimitri ordered and Dedue rushed forward and crushed the breastplate of a spearman.

Byleth saw a flash of lightning.

“Ashe! The mage!” Byleth called out.

The light snuffed out before the magic could be cast as Ashe’s arrow struck hard and true.

“Professor, watch out!” Annette cried and Byleth turned just as a man materialized out of what seemed to be thin air.

The sword of the creator had a unique weakness.

Byleth raised her sword to parry. 

The blade could strike from many feet away, twisting and winging, left and right, before slicing through its target and ending the kill. But the time in which the blade took to return to its original form opened Byleth up for a single counterattack best utilized by someone who already knew her capabilities.

The man struck hard and fast and his sword broke past Byleth’s elongated blade and towards her torso.

“Professor!” She heard a scream.

A chain of lightning struck at the figure but it was already too late and the blade entered her stomach.

She choked as blood flooded her throat and cruel eyes bore into hers.

The violent man from before. He had been an assassin.

The room began to spin.

Byleth reached inside for a divine pulse to reverse the situation and, as blood spilled from her lips and over her chin, she came to a calm realization.

She had none left.

The last had been used to save Marianne and the assassin grinned as if he knew. Time slowed down and Byleth knew that it signaled the end.

Yet her heart beat strong and steady.

And Byleth grinned back.

Cruelty turned into confusion as the man tried to make sense of why she was—

Byleth drove the dagger through his chin, past the roof of his mouth, and into his head.

“Marianne, the professor!” she heard a voice call out and then before she could collapse on to the floor the combined light of two healing spells embraced her from both sides.

Byleth tore the sword out of her stomach with a cry.

Then she heard a terrible scream.

“Rraaaaaahgggghhhhh!”

The sound scared her more than the feeling of almost death as blood both hers and the man’s stained her clothes and hands. 

Byleth looked up just in time to see Dimitri hurl his spear with such vicious strength that it flew from almost the opposite end of the room, hurtling at impossible speeds, at the figure on the far side.

The spear impacted the head of the flame emperor and pieces of his mask went flying.

A clatter and clang of metal and clay resounded through the area and every blue lion in the tomb fell into a shocked hush.

There, standing proud amidst the mess of her headpiece.

Edelgard, princess of Adrestia, gazed out at her opponents from the red armor of the flame emperor with the teeth and eyes of an alpha.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

Byleth witnessed blood-wrath for the first time in her life.

A bitter stench that curdled her blood suffused the tomb and at first she couldn’t pinpoint the source until she heard a sound.

A chilling sound.

Byleth turned and Dimitri’s shoulders were shaking.

He was laughing.

“Ahaha. Ahahaha.” Then he reared back and roared with a laughter that raised every hair on Byleth’s neck as she heard the madness in his voice.

Seeing the truth had broken something inside of him.

Then he cut himself off and said,

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Annette flinched. She had never seen him act this way before. None of them had.

Byleth began making her way towards the prince, stepping over burnt bodies, spilled guts, and severed heads. When she reached him after what felt like an eternity, he had begun to shake and Byleth felt a pain in her heart at the sight.

“I knew it, of course I knew it, why didn't I see it before.” The words kept coming out of him like a wound that refused to stop bleeding.

She laid a hand on his arm and he stilled, noticing her presence perhaps for the first time. She tightened her grip and had been about to call his name when she heard the barest whisper that Byleth thought she had imagined it.

“I’m sorry, professor.”

Then Dimitri wrenched his arm out of her grip and began to make his way towards Edelgard, leaving Byleth’s hand grasping at thin air.

* * *

He had crushed their skulls with his bare hands.

“Dimitri, stop!” Byleth heard someone cry. 

But he ignored them, he ignored them all as the killing continued, the screams. Anything and everything must fall so he could reach Edelgard and tear out her throat.

“What’s wrong with him?” Ashe asked, his voice quivering at the end. Byleth peered over at him and saw his bow shaking in his hand. “It’s like he’s a different person.”

She couldn’t help but wonder how he felt about the others, the strange features that surrounded him, and if Lonato had ever taught him about the nature of crest designations.

He wasn’t shaking as much as he could have been and Byleth supposed he knew enough. 

“He’s lost it, he’s finally lost it,” Felix murmured from beside her. He grit his teeth as the carnage unfolded before them, eyes glazing in unwanted memory. “This is the monster I saw that day in battle, this is the face he made as he cut down those men. I could tell. The blood lust, the wrath.” Felix shuddered. “He enjoyed every minute of it.”

“Make him stop.” Byleth heard a sob from behind and saw Marianne tending to a distraught Annette, her head buried in her hands.

Light armor clinked as Ingrid stepped into view and said, “I will do it.” Spear in hand, tensed and ready.

“Ingrid…” Sylvain whispered, looking as taken aback as if Ingrid herself had entered blood-wrath. 

Ingrid, one of Dimitri’s oldest friends, carried a steel in her eyes of someone who had made up their mind. Years and years of friendship and growing up, if Byleth made the order, the girl would rush forward and throw it all away without a second thought.

Byleth clenched her teeth as she considered the possibilities.

The fastest in the class second only to Felix and Byleth had no doubt Ingrid could strike Dimitri before he could react, but she was not the strongest nor was she the most sturdy. Her beta designation also meant she could not benefit from the power Byleth had passed on to her students.

Perhaps Ashe could reach him with his bow, but Dimitri’s heavier set armor would result in a partial deflection of the arrow.

Felix might have a chance.

Byleth continued to watch.

Dimitri had entered the throes of blood-wrath, strength increased tenfold by his madness, hands capable of penetrating bone and metal as he tore the soldiers apart, bolstered further by the strange power that coursed through them all.

His eyes glowed with mania and bloodlust and in seeing his singlemindedness Byleth realized that there there was no stopping him and to do so was to die.

Byleth shook her head. “Ingrid, don’t. We need to wait it out and let him complete his rampage. Otherwise, he won’t hesitate to cut us down.”

“Highness…” Dedue stood with his head bowed, shoulders shaking in anger at his helplessness.

The violence continued until the last man fell and a blood-soaked prince stood before the red princess, hatred and loathing marking his face like a permanent stain.

“I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

The composed expression on Edelgard’s face didn’t change despite her transformed features. “I cannot afford to die here, Dimitri. There’s too much left to do.”

“You won’t step out of this tomb alive. I’ll have your head.” Hatred became him as his clothes continued to drip with the blood of dozens.

“I don’t plan on walking.”

Hubert teleported beside her and slipped an arm around her waist.

Dimitri howled in rage and at once Byleth saw the wild boar Felix had always painted him to be, and made to run forward, his arm outstretched, eyes livid.

“For what it’s worth,” Edelgard said as magic began to swirl around her. “I had nothing to do with their deaths.”

“Liar!” Dimitri was inches away.

Then a flash of light blinded everyone in the tomb and when Byleth opened her eyes again after her vision stopped blurring, Edelgard was gone.

* * *

The next twenty-four hours passed in a haze.

As the knights of Seiros rushed into the room much too late as they had time and again, Byleth felt as if she passed through many hands, every once in a while catching a glimpse of her students, some explaining the situation to other knights, others in a daze similar to hers.

The knights cleaned away the bodies themselves. Byleth supposed it made sense that workers weren’t allowed down here.

Faces blurred together as she walked in a wandering trail between the constant push of people and bodies moving through the area, a hand sometimes guiding her, other times not.

A familiar scent filled her senses and Byleth’s hand reached out of its accord and found herself touching the warm, warm hand of a shell-shocked blue prince.

“Dimitri…?” Her voice came out a broken whisper.

He didn’t react, standing listless as he gazed at something in front of him that she couldn’t see.

She tightened her grip enough to crumple the sleeve of his jacket. “Dimitri,” she said with more insistence.

He turned to look at her then and the protrusion of fangs and tell-tale pupils showed Byleth that he still hadn’t returned to normal.

A weak smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she said, “Let’s get cleaned up.”

It hurt to see him like this.

It hurt so much.

She drew closer, close enough for the distance to become intimate, close enough until she could see every splash of blood on his cheeks, and said,

“Together.” 

He continued watching her as she struggled to stay on two feet. Her own fangs had retracted and now the strongest sense of fatigue seemed to be consuming her body even as she spoke. But she kept her hold on him as she held his gaze.

Amidst the bitter aftermath of his wrath, Byleth smelled his natural scent.

His hand clasped over hers, she felt the gentlest squeeze, and his eyes filled with an intent that roused Byleth from the haze of her body, never leaving hers as if holding her to a promise, and nodded.

* * *

Byleth’s heart flitted in her chest like the wings of a sparrow.

The steam of the bathhouse hid the sheerness of her shirt that ended just above her belly, soaked with the water she had already doused herself in. She had kept her underclothes on but removed everything else.

The steam also muted the heady arousal she knew must be coming off her in waves and she felt more nervous now than her time in the darkness,

“Are you regretting this, professor?”

Byleth peered behind her.

Low yet clear, Dimitri’s voice carried from where he stood, a shadow against the locked doorway despite his coloring.

She felt more wet with slick than any other time she could remember. It soaked the cloth and dripped past the cotton barrier covering her sex and Byleth had the feeling it had to do with being watched in such an intimate way.

They had gone together as she had promised. Into a private bath Byleth knew was reserved for nobles.

From the stone edge, she considered the prince before her.

He had changed much since her presentation, perhaps too much. The idealistic boy she met at the beginning of the year had been replaced by the somber young man before her. Looking at him now, she felt like he was only just put together, like it would take only one more shock or tragedy before he fell apart like a crumbling house, crushing what existed inside.

What happened next could change him forever and if the whispers amongst the knights had been true, the next step would be war.

Byleth entered the bath and despite the heat of the water her skin acclimated in an instant as she slid in faster than any normal person could have.

The water embraced her like she belonged and the heat felt so wonderful against her skin that Byleth lost herself in the pleasure as her clothes came away in her hands and she slipped under.

Floating naked in a nebulous shell of warmth, Byleth felt protected and secure. Her lungs billowed out bubbles and bubbles of air through her nose and past her cheeks. The peace of the water, however, clashed with her thoughts.

She had crossed the line.

Her conscious knew that what they had done and what they did now was inappropriate and unacceptable and yet…

She remembered the lifeless way Dimitri had stood by himself where Edelgard had disappeared.

If she hadn’t pulled him away, he might have stood there until the end of time. Or something much worse. He might have left to find Edelgard on his own and even now she could see revenge waking behind his sharpened pupils, which still hadn’t gone away, perhaps a result of the blood-wrath.

Something entered her space.

Hands hooked under her armpits and Byleth blew out the rest of her air in surprise as they hauled her back up and she surfaced with a gasp.

Dimitri had pulled her part way out of the water.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, words lined with the smallest undertone of panic. “You were in there a long time.” His voice sounded breathless. “You worried me.”

Scared. He had been scared.

A kind of relief entered her as she realized this, a relief that despite what happened he could still react with something other than hatred.

Byleth turned her head towards him. “I’m okay. I was just thinking.”

His hands had shifted to her chest, fingers just above her breasts, holding her like one would a small animal except from behind.

She could feel his breath against her gland and the anticipation she felt in her stomach signaled how dangerous her position was.

“What were you thinking about?” Dimitri asked and though she didn’t know if he had meant to do it his breath blew against her ear and the air between them became charged again.

Like before.

Like that time when he had enjoyed her rough on her bed—

“I was…”

It was too much and her breasts tightened with a sensitivity so stiff and tender that she reacted and reached to cover them.

Dimitri caught her hands before she could and her breath hitched in surprise at his sudden touch and in the commotion she fell back against his bare chest and remembered he had nothing on except a pair of dark clothed shorts.

“Ah…!” A soft gasp left her lips as the momentum pressed her against him and she felt a firm pressure on her lower back, a sensation both desirous and longing.

His hands quivered from where they held her and he said,

“If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

Byleth’s heart felt like it ceased to pulse as she came to the realization that she stood on a precipice, reaching far, far down, farther than the eye can see. Like a deep well where she knew an end existed but the fall.

The fall…

Byleth couldn’t tell if the fall could break her or not.

Dimitri waited, holding his breath, swathed in the sweet, familiar cinnamon of his arousal.

Her mind tried to reason with her.

They were teacher and student.

Prince and commoner.

Alpha and omega, her heart whispered.

And her thoughts would only circle back to the war brewing on the horizon, the tenuous hold on peace broken beyond repair, the inevitable approach of a terrible conflict. Inevitable.

Perhaps this had been inevitable. Ever since the beginning.

Sliding her bare skin against the hardness of his erection, she presented herself to him and Dimitri took in a harsh, shuddering breath as she turned her head to meet his overwhelmed expression and said,

“Don’t stop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your support. I read your comments regularly and I'm glad I have readers that are so excited for the next installments. 
> 
> I'll be busy for the next few weeks but will see what I can squeeze in during that time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

She gave him permission and he had his hands on her before she could breathe.

Dimitri crushed her against him in a desperation born of days of dreams and waiting and wanting as he held her in place to draw a line along the outer shell of her ear with his tongue making her cry out as the force of his embrace brought them to the edge of the bath.

She could feel the brute strength behind his movements, a strength that he kept a tenuous hold on as he struggled not to hurt her, not to hold her too tight, but the magnanimity of what they were doing made his embrace just hard enough to leave bruises.

As the fresh wave of slick slipped into the water, Byleth realized she wanted it like that.

She wanted him to be rough.

She placed her hands against the cold stone and closed her eyes, losing herself to the whirlwind of sex and mindlessness.

Dimitri molded against hers. Like he wanted to be closer, to be skin tight, to be together.

Byleth reached for him, for his arms, his hands, anything as they traveled her body, skimming across her chest, scraping her breasts, kindling the heat searing her skin with every pass of his hands.

Then he had his lips pressed to the crook of her neck, breath ragged, like hers, his hands folding over her breasts, then trailing down to her hips, her torso as if overwhelmed at the enormity of a privilege Byleth had afforded him.

But being touched by someone who wanted her so much was a privilege in and of itself.

Then Dimitri rolled a handful of her breast into a single palm.

Byleth blew out a breathy laugh at having someone touch her there for the first time.

“They’re so soft.” He murmured, a kind of awe in his voice as he held her. His other hand kept a tentative grasp on her hip, fingers trailing her skin as if he didn’t know where to put them.

Then his grip tightened, placing a pressure on her hip bone as he lowered his head to whisper in her ear, “Does touching them like that feel good to you?”

A shuddering tremble traveled all along her body starting from her neck as Byleth breathed out a soft, “Yes.”

Dimitri moaned when she said so.

He slid both hands to her hips and pressed his bare chest against her back and made several gentle thrusts against her, each time pressing into her with a little more insistence, a little more urgency.

“Sorry, sorry, I…” She heard a shuddering breath as his hands shook with the emotions warring inside him. “I want this, I wanted this… so, so much.”

Byleth wanted it too, to where she almost couldn’t recognize herself anymore.

“Can you touch me? There?” She showed him where with a caress of her glands against the shaft of his erection. “Like you did before.”

She had never witnessed this side of her before, this wanton, unthinking side of her, where she existed only to pleasure and be pleasured. Where there existed nothing but her breasts, her slit, and spaces within her that were made to receive.

Dimitri’s hold became a bruising grip and a sliver of pleasure shivered up Byleth’s back. She heard a sharp intake of breath. He brought his other hand away.

“Dimitri, touch me—”

He slipped a finger inside her.

Byleth cried out and tried to curl in on herself at the foreign sensation except a hand caught her by the chin. Dimitri pulled her back to him so that he could see her face.

Her hands clasped at the bath’s edge again as their gazes met. Air passed quick and fast through her chest. Her breasts exposed and sensitive.

“Do you like this, professor? Do you want it?” He whispered.

He pushed in a little deeper and Byleth drew in a sharp breath. She clenched around his hand and Dimitri’s gaze became a little less controlled, those crystal blue eyes of his glazing with desire.

He began to move in and out to an internal rhythm and a folding warmth began to build in her lower belly.

Byleth couldn’t hear it through the water but she could feel it. Feel him. Dragging against the glands, stimulating them, eliciting fresh layers of slick. In and out. In and out.

“I… I…” She was losing the ability to speak as her body tried to make sense of the white hot pleasure dancing along the edge of her senses, the feeling so much like before, before when the world turned white and everything fell apart.

“I want…”

She curved her back giving Dimitri better access inside of her as the heat kept building.

“I want…” Something seemed to unhook inside of her and Byleth sank back on to Dimitri’s hand burying his finger up to the knuckle inside of her as she became awash in a delirum of sex and pleasure as she said,

“I want it. All, all of it. If feels so… good. So good.”

“Oh seiros, I can’t hold back anymore.”

Something broke in Dimitri’s expression as he said this. He brought her even closer to him.

“Let me have you,” He asked with harsh, uneven breaths. “Let me have you, professor. Please.”

Byleth smiled at him from a sex-induced haze.

He looked so beautiful from this angle. Almost radiant.

She pushed, steady and firm, several times against his hand each time burying him inside her and then the last link in her mind broke as Byleth sighed out,

“Yes.”

The last shred of his control crumpled in his face as dropped his head down towards hers.

He pressed his lips against her in their first kiss.

Then he slid his finger out of her but before Byleth could react to the emptiness it left behind she felt his hips push forward.

At first she felt a pressure as something stretched her, wider than she had ever been before.

And then her flesh gave way as he slid inside of her.

Complete.

He swallowed her cry as her body accommodated him in his entirety, as he had her stretched tight… tight… so tight…

And full.

She had never felt so full so filled so—

Dimitri gave a ragged groan saturated with a mess of emotions, entering her for what could be his first time as well, as he dragged his tongue along her teeth and canines and tongue and Byleth shook with the overwhelming sensations of so many new and different things happening to her at once.

He broke the kiss only to do it again from a different angle, catching her with his fangs as she tasted blood in her mouth and Byleth wondered if kisses with Dimitri would always taste like this and then he began to move.

With slow, short thrusts, he worked his way in and out of her as he broke the kiss again and asked her in a heated whisper,

“Am I your first, professor? Am I?” Byleth could hear the water lapping against their bodies as he took her. “Was there anyone else?” The hand holding her head back tightened.

There had been no one. No one, but him.

He thrust harder now, hitting deeper, faster. His hand slid down to cradle both breasts. His head bowed to kiss her shoulder, inches away from the gland.

Any closer and he would bind himself to her. If he pierced them with his teeth.

The movements sent shocks of pleasure through her body.

She tried to pull away, overwhelmed, but he caught her and locked her into another hot kiss, sliding in even deeper. He reached parts of her she wasn’t even familiar with.

She could hear and feel his breaths against her face.

He was going to have her, she thought with a glazed mind, over and over and over again until he was satisfied.

“Only you…” Byleth thought her words sounded slurred. “I’ve been with only you…”

Dimitri drew apart from her with a choked gasp but before Byleth could call for him he pulled her head aside covering part of her face with one strong hand, dragged his lips down and across her neck, her shoulder, past the gland, just past.

And bit down.

Right as the fire pooling in her belly burned brightest and Byleth fell apart like she was falling.

Falling.

Falling like she belonged to her body. Her body belonged to her.

Dimitri pushed into her still, filling her up.

Then taking away, falling.

Falling.

Gone.

* * *

Byleth came to in Dimitri’s arms, lying in his lap wrapped in cloth outside the water.

They seemed to be sitting on a small bench against the wall.

“Dimitri did you finish—”

He cut her off with a slow, lazy kiss, and Byleth let him, his tongue tracing every contour of her mouth as he tasted her, bringing the warm kindle of her belly to a low burn.

She reached down quiet and gentle to touch the tip of his cock and her finger came away with a sticky, foreign substance that she knew to be his spend.

She broke the kiss and pulled back to meet a searching blue gaze.

She wanted to know what he was thinking as he looked at her. She was sure he wanted the same.

To know if she liked it as much as he did.

“Did you come inside of me?”

She watched him shudder.

“The things you say…” He gave a helpless laugh. “It makes me want to…”

He closed his eyes and his arms tightened around her as if…

Byleth felt a touch of concern until she felt him shudder against her once more and when he opened his eyes again his pupils had sharpened and his teeth elongated as he said,

“It makes me want to have you a second time.”

Byleth felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of his quick recovery. “I thought men needed a few minutes to…”

He was already repositioning her against him as she spoke, sliding her leg over his lap, holding her steady by the small of her back.

“It’s already been a few minutes,” he murmured as he reached down to wipe away the spend on his tip using Byleth’s cloth as he spread her legs.

“Dimitri…” She watched him, looking for signs that he was alright.

She hadn’t shared enough intimacy with him to know if this was normal or if this was…

At the sound of his name, Dimitri’s gaze faltered and the words seemed to stick to his throat. “I… I need.”

She continued observing him and despite her worry, allowed him to move her so that her folds poised over his already erect member.

His hands folded past her thighs, under her sex, spreading her as he gazed at her with a broken expression that revealed just how shaken he really was from the events of the past day.

As Byleth raised a hand to his head and traced a gentle trail along his hairline, he leaned into her touch and said,

“I need to be inside you again.”

Then he pushed into her once more and began his movements anew.

* * *

Byleth, fully clothed again, closed the private bathhouse door behind her with a soft click.

Exhaustion had caught up with Dimitri at the end and Byleth could still feel the lingering warmth of his face and skin along her arms and chest from where she had embraced him as he came down from the high of his climax, his hot spend still painting her belly.

Though he had filled her with his body, her heart exhibited a similar sensation like a can of water filled just to the brim. A comfortable weight.

Byleth knew these emotions were dangerous, both for the person she had them for and to have prior to the dark times coming ahead.

Her hand drifted to the still bleeding marks on her shoulder, inches away from the textured skin of her neck.

If Dimitri had attempted a bonding bite, Byleth would have stopped him without hesitation. She had made this promise upon discovering the purpose of fangs in alphas and omegas. The bite would have linked his magic to hers, a permanent connection that would mute the scents he received from other omegas, closing him off from that part of himself. Although no more than a few years separated them, he still had time ahead of him, the time of an entire kingdom, and couldn’t afford to tie himself to a single person at such an early age, especially to someone with as many complications as her.

By biting her where he did, Dimitri had revealed his intentions.

His next bite could be binding.

Byleth found her hand clenched ever so tight as the thought crossed her mind and she couldn’t help but ask herself if making love to him had been the right choice.

How the fall might break them both.

Byleth turned to leave the premises, thoughts of Dimitri and the future still muddling her mind, when she saw something that made her freeze.

Dorothea stood at the bathhouse entrance staring back at her in utter shock.

Byleth considered making a run for it.

“Oh damned it all,” the prior actress and singer said, recovering much faster than her. “I knew I shouldn’t have picked tonight to sneak in.”

Byleth could do nothing but stare, mind still trying to catch up with what was happening.

Dorothea noticed the lack of reprimand and so she took the opportunity to flutter her eyelashes and wink. “But since you’re also coming out of there, I’m sure you’ll let me off for tonight, right professor?”

Byleth had to close her jaw before she spoke.

“Um…”

Dorothea made a gesture as if waving away a moth.

“I won’t keep you any longer,” and, before she could react, slipped past her with a grace only Dorothea could exhibit as she reached for the handle of the door Byleth had just exited. “I’ll be on my way now, if you please…”

The links snapped back into place as Byleth finally said something coherent.

“Wait.”

The tone in her voice must have been enough to stop the young woman because Dorothea stopped mid turn of the handle and was now looking at her with a focused curiosity written across her features.

Despite Dorothea’s mannerisms, her eyes sometimes made Byleth feel like she could see right through her.

“There’s still someone in there,” Byleth wondered if the floor could just swallow her whole as the words left her mouth. “If you could just… use the other private bath I’d appreciate it.”

Dorothea’s eyebrows flew up into her hair as her mind worked to make sense of the last person she must have expected to say those words.

“Wha …What…?” The performer spluttered, ungraceful perhaps for the first in her life. “But…”

“Please.” Byleth said and, when the heavy blush creeping up her neck got the better of her, turned and walked away as fast as she could.

“W-wait! Professor!”

Byleth kept walking and Dorothea kept speaking and as the distance between the two of them grew in size the last thing Byleth heard her say was,

“But professor what am I to do? There’s only one private bath...!”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

The briefings lasted almost all day.

Table after table had been filled then emptied of knights, professors, clergy, and archbishop as meetings convened then reconvened and then reconvened again.

Edelgard had declared war on Garreg Mach and her army would march in thirty days.

“Agh, will it ever end?” Manuela moaned as they sat tucked away in the sanctuary of the older woman’s office. “I swear this is worse than that time I was stabbed.”

Byleth raised an eyebrow and the Manuela dismissed it with a wave and said,

“Okay, okay maybe the stabbing was worse but I have never been in so many meetings in my life!”

Manuela never failed to help lighten the mood during serious times such as these, but that hadn’t stopped Byleth from sinking in similar exhaustion on to a cushy chair as soon as they had the office to themselves.

“It’s been hours…” she sighed.

“I know…” Manuela nodded.

The two of them stewed in their misery together for a few, precious minutes. Byleth with her head in her hands and Manuela in her silent corner, thinking perhaps about her students and the upcoming war. Or maybe even about her next night of drinking.

Which was why Byleth wasn’t ready when a sly voice asked,

“So who is it?”

“What?”

Byleth looked up out of her hands and wondered if she misheard.

The gleam in Manuela’s eye, however, spoke volumes and Byleth felt her legs bracing out of pure instinct in preparation to run.

“Who is it?” Manuela asked again, her smile only growing wider.

“Who…?”

“Who’s the lucky student you’re sleeping with?”

Byleth leapt out of her chair and it went clattering across the floor as the full meaning of Manuela’s question hit her all at once.

Manuela didn’t even blink.

“Oh don’t be so surprised, Professor Byleth,” the professor drawled with a billowing confidence Byleth could only dream of.

“I might never have had much luck with romance but I’ve had no shortage of men after me, over me, or under me so I can definitely say I am a subject matter expert when it comes to recognizing when someone has been thoroughly fucked.”

Byleth might as well have become a fish because her mouth dropped open in a gape for the second time in a week as she stared at the ex-opera singer.

“That and you’ve been limping, my dear. Others may think you hurt, but I know when something else has been pushing up between your legs. And it wasn’t a sword I can tell you that.”

“Manuela…” Byleth tried to speak but the burning in her face felt so strong that she could do nothing but wait for it to pass as she fought to keep from sprinting out the door and never coming back.

“You can say it. I won’t tell a soul.” She winked.

Though the professor might have been only half serious, Byleth fell silent.

She considered it.

Actually considered it.

Countless nights of hauling Manuela back into bed all the while listening to her escapades in the operatic world and her wild misfortunes in love, Byleth had developed an unexpected kinship with the boisterous woman.

Manuela had told her many, many stories, each one more scandalous than the last.

What kind of listener would Byleth be if she didn’t tell a story or two of her own?

She bowed her head in humbleness at the thought that the confession this time would be hers as she said,

“Dimitri. It was Dimitri.”

* * *

The briefings finally ended and, hours later, Byleth found herself at the monastery stables.

Quiet and empty of people save the soft whinnying of the horses and pegasi, Byleth rubbed at her tired eyes as the day offered its first hour of peace.

The world could be a complicated mess.

From the open window of a stable, two roans peered at her with casual curiosity as Byleth contemplated that complexity. The blue, satin-lined saddles hanging on the wooden walls signified that the horses belonged to Dimitri and Sylvain, the only mounted fighters they had.

Every so often one of the horses would bend over for a mouthful of hay, slow and lazy.

Byleth pet one on the mane, her hand sliding over the rough hairs as the horse continued its indolent chewing.

Horses in Fodlan had a simple but short and sometimes brutish life. None of the ones at Garreg Mach had names that she knew of for horses often fell before their riders.

The blue lions were no strangers to such a phenomenon.

The weight of that thought fell upon her shoulders as her hand continued running through the horse’s coarse mane.

A sizeable portion of the horses would die, Byleth knew, due to the large scale of the battle to come, including these two. Their chances of survival would be slim and once unseated a lancer became several times more susceptible to the rush of axes.

Byleth’s ministrations stopped as a familiar anxiety pushed up in her chest. Today it felt more pronounced than usual.

The protection of her students had always been a burden on its own. Rewarding, but a burden nonetheless.

The burden had only grown over time as she got to know her students, as their bonds on the battlefield improved with every fight.

Now Byleth could feel herself bending under the weight as nights before she had taken on an even greater load, a natural consequence of the physicality she had shared with Dimitri, their relationship changed forever.

Byleth needed something to distract her.

Reaching into her pockets, she pulled out an apple. Saved from refreshments at the briefings.

Splitting the apple in two with a sharp twist of her hands, she held up a piece to each horse. Both animals bit into the snack despite their meals of hay and delight welled up in her chest at their eagerness.

Their lives were short, sometimes brutish.

But still simple.

Despite the hardships of their lives, they could still find appreciation in the smallest of ways.

Perhaps humans could do the same.

“Professor Byleth.”

Byleth startled and the fruit almost slipped from her hands. Again, she didn’t like how skittish she’d become this past month.

Seteth stood facing her, arms crossed, face stern as ever.

He must have just turned the corner and, somewhere in the back of her head, Byleth remembered that he owned a wyvern in a separate stable nearby.

“I would say I’m glad to see you again, but I’ve been meaning to speak with you about a serious matter.”

Knowing her brief peace had been broken, Byleth bowed her head and, in a wary voice, said, “I see.”

“I’m beginning to think you’ve been avoiding me.”

Byleth thought about how she should respond to that.

Because it was true.

“You’ve seen me all day at the briefings.”

The man raised an eyebrow at her. “And you slipped away before I had a chance to speak with you in private.”

“Flayn is doing well, Seteth. You needn’t worry.”

She had developed a modicum of respect for the man over the past few months.

Sometimes he became somewhat overbearing as he did now or watched Byleth a little too closely, but he was at least consistent and predictable to an extent. She could always count on him to appear at the most inconvenient of times.

Such as now.

“I’m not here to talk about Flayn,” he replied and after Byleth gave him a pointed look Seteth turned off to the side with a light blush. “Not this time.”

Then he turned back to her, all business once more.

“I’m here to tell you that you are treading a very dangerous road.”

The way he looked at her.

He knew.

“Seteth, don’t beat around the bush any longer. Just tell me what this is about.”

Byleth braced herself for what came next.

Seteth crossed his arms and right away she felt a lecture coming on.

“One of your students has promised themselves to you. I don’t care who, but that knowledge in and of itself is concerning indeed.”

Byleth almost tripped over herself as his words caught her off guard. The phrasing sounded so odd.

“Promised themselves?”

“Yes,” and a light came into Seteth’s eye that indicated he had a very thorough and detailed explanation prepared for just such a question.

“When one bites next to the gland, whether one is an alpha or an omega, it is a promise to the other of a bonding bite.”

Byleth almost reached up to touch her shoulder where the break in her skin still hadn’t healed, but stopped short because Seteth would have honed in on the movement like a hawk.

“And as I am fairly certain that you and Catherine do not have that sort of relationship, nor do you have one with… with Rhea,” he had the capacity to blush again and Byleth felt a mild horror at the warmth rising against her own cheeks.

“I can only conclude it is with one of your students.” Seteth said and then schooled his expression into the most severe look she had seen from him yet.

“How can you tell? You’re not…” Byleth trailed off as he only looked even more severe than before.

“Don’t try to distract me, Professor Byleth. You’ve avoided me long enough regarding the matter.”

“I’ve avoided you for a total of half a day.”

“So you admit it.”

“I’m not.”

The two of them squared off though in reality Byleth had no such energy left for such a confrontation. The accusation, yet not quite an accusation, the seriousness of his eyes and voice, the underlying concern in his gaze.

Byleth deflated, her exhaustion playing a large part.

“Gods, you’re the second person to figure it out today. Is everyone to know by the end of this week?”

Seteth replied, “Knowing Manuela’s ability to spread a message from one end of the monastery to the other I’d say yes.” He ignored the look of horror on Byleth’s face. “Though she’s most likely just told Hanneman regarding the matter as I also don’t think she would betray your trust so easily.”

“What…” Byleth felt a gape coming on again.

Seteth looked a tortured man.

He sighed in exasperation. “How was I to know you two would be discussing those kinds of things with the doors wide open for Seiros sake.”

“Did you hear the entire thing?”

“No, just the end, but—”

Byleth dropped her face into her hands.

“Gods, could this day get any worse?”

“Professor Byleth.”

His tone had sobered.

The atmosphere surrounding their conversation changed and Byleth raised her head to see him looking at her with surprising sincerity.

“While I condemn the actions you’ve taken up until this point with your student, I also understand the nature of your… particular circumstances.”

He gestured at her in a general fashion and Byleth waited for him to explain. Seteth always had an explanation for almost everything.

“Late presentations such as yours are almost unheard of and most nobles or crest-bearers in general are schooled on the nature of each designation and the etiquette involved with them.

“And, yes, professor,” he emphasized his words with a look when Byleth opened her mouth to ask. “There is an etiquette for alphas and omegas that you have never been taught due to your mercenary past. I’m sure your late father would have wanted you to learn such things if he anticipated your presentation and exposure to crest-bearing nobles.”

Byleth crossed her own arms. “And what does this etiquette have to do with my current situation?”

“You find that you are unable to suppress. Am I correct?”

Byleth nodded.

Then Seteth began to speak.

As if he understood what it was like to have a designation.

“It takes years for one to become capable of suppression. Your magic needs time to attune to the new nature of your body. Most present at an early age and are kept from open society until they are capable of suppressing and medicating. Nobles especially prefer to reduce their frequency for heats and ruts due to the increased chances of fostering a bastard child. And if a heat were projected to occur during the school year, the student would take a few days leave regardless of the circumstances. Ruts are more difficult to predict as they are dependent on the occurrence of a heat.”

“So you’re saying my circumstances may have influenced them?” Byleth asked, though she could already guess what his answer would be.

“They are young and prone to making rash decisions. Add in the events of the past few months and you’ll find that a great possibility.”

The prospect sat in Byleth’s heart like a lead weight.

Seteth sighed and it seemed the topic was as tiring for him as it was for her.

His expression softened. “I know you care for your students.”

Byleth wondered what she had on her own face to make him so much gentler today. Seteth had always been a disciplined and unrelenting man.

Or perhaps he empathized with others much better than she gave him credit for.

“You care for all of them. And I can see how much happier and safe Flayn has become since joining your house and for that I am thankful.”

His face took on the faintest hint of a smile and Byleth nodded in acknowledgement.

In the waning light of the early evening he looked more tired than she had ever seen him.

He leaned in.

“I just ask that you make the right decision in the end before it’s too late.”

Byleth fought not to look away as the words pressed down even more so on her already burdened heart.

“I know you don’t need any more pressure when we already have the imperial army closing in but everything we do from here on out must be done with precision and deliberation and that includes what we do with our relationships to others.”

Byleth agreed, hearing the warning in his words. There was much to think about. The right decision to make…

She began, “I—”

“Seteth!”

Ingrid spun around the corner. “I’m so sorry, I’m—”

She made eye contact with Byleth and stopped mid-sentence as a small ‘oh’ shaped her mouth. “Um, I mean…”

Then she recovered and said with the smallest blush along her cheeks,

“How are you, Professor Byleth?” She bowed her head in acknowledgement then turned to address the older man. “I’m sorry for the wait, Professor Seteth. I’m here now. I’m ready.”

“I… I see. Let’s get started then.”

Seteth seemed to have been caught off guard for the first time since Byleth met him.

He took a little longer than Ingrid to recover but when he did, his next words came as if the interruption hadn’t happened at all.

He tilted his head in gesture towards Byleth’s student. “Ingrid reached out to me one day about learning to fly. She says you suggested she come see me for further development.”

Ingrid gave a brilliant smile, a good indication of successful training.

Seteth smiled himself at the sight.

“She’s doing very well. I think she’ll be more than ready for an examination next week.” The fondness in his voice was unmistakable and Byleth knew he had discovered his favorite student.

“I’ll make sure to give her the test then.” she said.

Seteth nodded before he turned away and began leading Ingrid to the stables where the pegasi awaited.

Byleth took her leave and found that her steps felt lighter than before. The last exchange left her feeling enlightened for once and, amidst the uncertainty and the worry, she felt a glimmer of hope.

Appreciation could be found in the smallest of ways.

* * *

The briefings began again the next day except this time they included the house leaders.

The two that were left.

Byleth stood a ways behind the blue insignia of the lions draped over a chair.

Teachers had less priority today at the center table in the makeshift war-room and had been relegated to the back, in line with their house leaders’ seats. Though from the looks of the growing crowd, Byleth doubted any of them would have much input in today’s briefing.

Hanneman had taken a place by Manuela’s side, as his house no longer had a leader.

Let alone students.

“Long time no see, teach.”

A bright yellow patch of color and the somewhat insincere, signature smile of the golden lion house leader entered her vision from the side. He sidled close enough to deem her personal space nonexistent.

Yet Byleth still appreciated the energy he brought to their interactions.

“Claude.”

Even though the young man preferred to keep his thoughts hidden behind a pleasant façade.

“You’ve seen better days.” He responded, amusement in his voice.

Byleth rolled her eyes as his took on a mischievous glint.

“You should take this a little more seriously.” Byleth said, though with no real reprimand behind her words.

“I am taking this seriously, teach,” he said with an enigmatic smile still covering his face. “We’re about to discuss the future of Garreg Mach, possibly even the future of our country.”

He waved his hands in a grand gesture at the proceedings, ruffling several capes much to their owners’ dismay.

“We’ve been placed about as carefully as chess pieces on a board and now we’re going to play.” Claude leaned in as he spoke, closer and closer. “Of course I’m taking this seriously.”

Until their noses were just inches apart and she could feel his breath along her skin.

“How else would I get a chance to do what I want to do?”

His eyes flicked to just beside her and Byleth felt a warm presence approach from behind.

“The meeting’s about to start, Claude.”

Dimitri’s voice came from just beside her ear and Byleth fought back a shiver as she hid part of her face in case the sensation had sharpened her pupils.

She wondered if he could tell what she was. If he even had a designation.

Byleth supposed she may never know.

“Talk to you later, teach.” The young heir to the Alliance winked before leaning back and nodding at the prince beside her. “Dimitri.”

In a dramatic sweep of his yellow cape, Claude walked to his seat. On his way he teased his professor about one thing or another and Manuela waved him away with a roll of her eyes as he burst out in laughter.

Byleth pretended she didn’t notice the knowing look Manuela passed her way afterwards as she turned back towards her own house leader. Or was he a lover now, as Manuela put it?

“Dimitri, shouldn’t you be making your way over there too?”

She could feel his body heat in the space between them. He stood much closer because of the crowd, though it also felt like he did it on purpose.

Byleth enjoyed the warmth.

“I only said it so he would go away.”

The uncharacteristic comment made her look up to see a crafty smile on Dimitri’s face causing one to tug at Byleth’s lips as well.

Yet she could see dark shadows under his eyes, worse than before and darker even than hers. Byleth hoped she hadn’t contributed to any of it.

“How are you feeling?” He asked. His expression gentle, concerned even in the face of his own exhaustion.

“Good…” A placeholder answer and when Dimitri looked unconvinced Byleth shook her head. “Actually no. I’ve been having long days.”

Byleth gestured to the crowd.

“With meetings like this. And long nights. I feel like I haven’t had a moment of peace since…”

Since Edelgard’s betrayal.

Her expression and phrasing gave away what she meant and Dimitri’s eyes hardened at the implication though he said nothing. This war room was neither the place nor was this the time to discuss the very demon that haunted him.

“What about you?” She asked, though she had a feeling about what he’d say in response.

“Fine.”

And Byleth’s lip curled a little higher as her guess came true.

“Oh really?” She said and Dimitri’s smile turned wry.

“I suppose I’m guilty of being untruthful as well.”

He seemed closer than before when he spoke, even closer than Claude had been, but unlike what she felt with him, this time a quiet thrill shot up her back.

The tips of his fingers ghosted against her lower back with the wall behind them so no one could see his straying hands.

“Are you still…?”

He rubbed a light circle against her as he asked her this and his eyes flickered to just below her hips.

“A little.” Byleth felt somewhat breathless as she spoke.

Her answer made him tense as he turned his eyes away, towards the wall, his fingers pressing into her until his hand had almost flattened against the curve of her back.

Desire and practicality warred in his expression.

Then he slid his hand away though he stayed just as close as before. “I’m sorry for showing you this side of me.” He said, his voice rough with restraint. “I haven’t been myself lately.”

“Sounds like we need to talk.”

If the world wasn’t about to fall apart around them, Byleth might’ve taken the time to press a kiss to his cheek, or his lips, caress his hair. Comfort him somehow with this body of hers.

But right now it was just not meant to be and Byleth’s hands and mouth stayed where they were.

“Yes.”

Dimitri looked as if he were thinking the very same thing.

The commotion around them seemed to fall away as his eyes roved to her lips.

Byleth felt her breath catch. Her heart picked up. Several beats faster.

Then they drifted over her chin, her neck, before fastening on to her shoulder where Byleth still felt the ghosting of his canines.

He kept his eyes there for the longest time and the room got much hotter all of a sudden.

Simmering.

“Am I interrupting?”

If it hadn’t been for reflexes born of years of training, both of them would have leapt apart.

“Hanneman,” instead she nodded at the professor, careful to keep her expression neutral. “Not at all. Did you need something?”

But he must have suspected something because of the way he looked at her from over his glasses.

Byleth felt the sudden need to duck her head beneath her coat.

The professors at Garreg Mach had eyes that were far too keen for their own good.

However, Hanneman was quick to resume his usual straight-laced expression and Byleth discovered why when he said,

“It’s Dorothea.”

She felt a flash of concern. “Dorothea?”

Dorothea had been the only student from the black eagles to stay behind. As of now there had been no known retaliation for such an act.

“Is she hurt?”

“She wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, only that she needed to speak with you.”

“Of course.” Byleth glanced at Dimitri for the first time since Hanneman’s approach and saw the concern there as well before looking back at the older man. “Let me see her.”

Hanneman nodded then turned as Byleth prepared to follow him out of the war room.

Before she walked away altogether, Dimitri’s fingers caressed her one last time, the tips grazing the fabric and down along the curve of her lower spine.

Byleth left his side and exited the room fighting back a blush the entire time.

* * *

“Ingrid’s been engaged.”

“What?” The sharpness of Dimitri’s voice broke the quiet of the blue lions classroom as Byleth told him the news. “That’s ridiculous—”

“And without her permission.”

Byleth felt a surge of anger as she said it.

Memories of countless discarded letters arose, the bouts of agitation, the clouded, far away looks during class. Of all people, Ingrid’s father proved the largest obstacle for the knight hopeful to overcome in her academic career and Byleth could do nothing but deal with the aftermath.

Dimitri’s shoulders tensed as he ran a hand through his blonde hair, tangling the locks somewhat.  
“Seiros help us, she doesn’t need this right now. None of us do.”

Byleth shook her head. “She’s breaking off the engagement at the end of this week. Personally.”

When Dimitri opened his mouth to retort, Byleth shook her head again. “And I think we should go with her as a class.”

“You foresee the meeting going south.”

It wasn’t a question and Byleth smiled at the ease with which he had followed her train of thought.

“Yes. Dorothea also warns that the betrothed may have several platoons of his father’s mercenary units at his disposal.”

Then Byleth crossed her arms, hand under her chin, sinking into the level of thought all their house excursions required.

“Although we can’t afford to be injured before the upcoming battle, this might be a good opportunity for us to test the skills we’ve acquired since our last battle. As for Ingrid, she’ll need to take an intermediate test tomorrow so she can prepare a pegasus for battle. I think she’s ready…”

Realizing that she had been rambling, Byleth looked back up, apologetic, only to see Dimitri school his face into his own look of confidence, though not before she caught the disappearance of a smile that might have been on his face the entire time she was speaking.

“I believe she is as well.” He murmured, voice soft with a sincerity that showed he was as invested in the situation as she was. “Ingrid would see it as an opportunity.”

“Yes, she would.” Byleth watched for his smile to come back. “I agree.”

It made Dimitri much more handsome.

The whirlwind of conversation died down and fell into a lull.

Byleth laid a hand on her desk, mirroring Dimitri as he stood just a few feet away. He had his eyes turned down, gaze now thoughtful as Byleth figured he must be running through possible drills and battle tactics in his mind for the conflict ahead.

As the silence stretched between them, her attention drifted and Byleth found herself looking at their hands.

The first thing she noticed was how much smaller hers were compared to his.

Byleth stretched her fingers out a little wider as she tested the feel of the desk under her palm.

If either of them turned their hands over, they would have near matching callouses on their palms from years of fighting and weapons training.

They had both killed before.

Soldiers, bandits, wolverines and savage beasts, their blades struck them down in the name of a cause, a cause that struggled to remain clear as people who mattered died and the world came ever closer to falling into chaos.

They both fought for the sake of survival. Dimitri with emotions much too strong for him to handle and Byleth with the coldness of a demon.

And they both fought for revenge. That deadly line between insanity and justice growing thinner and thinner as the threat of war rose ever higher against their approaching deadline.

Yet Byleth marveled at the idea that she had protected Dimitri and her students so many times with hands such as these, ones that had put down so many yet struggled to wrap around a wrist such as Dimitri’s.

She would protect her students with these hands for the rest of her life, even if it meant risking her own.

Byleth breathed in, her chest rising, filling. Filling her with resolve.

Then Dimitri covered her hand with his and that breath shook with a startle.

“Hey.” He said.

Byleth made several rapid blinks as the physical touch took her out of her reverie.

“Hi,” she replied when she finally found her voice.

“You looked so distant.” As he spoke, he stepped a little closer, less than an arm’s distance away, his hand still warm and encompassing over hers. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

His closeness was so very distracting. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Dimitri gave a wry smile. “You don’t have to, professor. I think you already know how I feel about all this.”

Then he moved his hand underneath hers and lifted hers up, guiding her towards him, towards his face, his mouth.

“You know what I live for, we’ve spoken about it you and I.”

They had, many, many weeks ago, when she lost someone dear to her for the first time in her life.

Byleth watched him in a sort of fascination as Dimitri brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them.

“Don’t ever go anywhere I can’t follow,” He whispered against the skin and bone, the ivory of his teeth skimming the gentle surface. “Please.” His eyes bore into hers with a burgeoning intensity. “Promise me that.”

A shudder traveled its way all along her body as the mark on her shoulder prickled as if in reaction to his gaze.

“I won’t.”

She matched him with a look backed by her own quiet strength, the kind she had carried since she first became a teacher. Something that, despite the turbulence of the times, had been one thing that stayed the same.

“I promise.”

Dimitri didn’t smile nor did he look away and Byleth felt like her words had a kind of finality to it.

Like she had signed a contract somehow with neither pen nor paper.

Dimitri brushed against her knuckles one last time, his warm breath tickling the skin.

Then he tugged on her hand, closing the distance between them.

Pulling her in for a kiss.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

The sweltering heat of the ravenous Ailell mountains clung to Byleth’s skin like a second coat.

“Ingrid, you’re sure this is the place?” Dorothea gasped as she pulled herself on to the final overhang that brought them all before the red flame and liquid rock of the valley of torment, a great and terrible place.

“Yes.” Ingrid replied. “I saw him from afar.”

A baying followed by the instant gust of wind from a flurry of wings blew across the group as Ingrid touched down beside them, spear in hand sharp and lethal.

From her pristine silver armor to the neat braided hair along her back, Ingrid looked nary a hair out of place.

Yet the stiff lines of her face gave away the conflict in her heart. The anger and frustration.

And as the blistering heat surrounding them settled on to their clothes and bodies, sweat began pouring down the sides of Ingrid’s face and neck, dripping into her armor. Her hair began to frizz at the ends.

Her breathing grew more labored as she mustered her pegasus forward towards the group of armored fighters and her supposed fiancé in the distance.

Byleth stepped up beside her student, sweat soaking her own clothes, and surveyed the land and the men up ahead.

“You were right, professor,” Ingrid murmured and Byleth looked up at her to see the fury in her eyes.

“It’s an ambush.”

Dorothea flung her sword at the mercenary bearing down on her and unleashed a powerful blast of lightning right as the blade pierced his shoulder, blood mixing with sweat as the heat of the mountain bore down on everyone.

His partner screamed as he charged the now blade-less mage only to be cut off as an arrow lodged itself into his throat.

“Thanks!” Dorothea called over her shoulder, her positivity infectious despite the seriousness of the situation.

She had thrown her sword as a last resort, Ingrid’s incredible maneuverability on the field working against them as Dorothea lost protection at her flank.

Ashe raised a salute in return before notching another arrow.

Almost back to back against him stood Annette, her hands raised in a deadly show of cycling wind, ready to tear apart any foe that dared break through to their position.

Though she left devastation in her wake, the enemies in their section of the field had them pinned down, rendering them unable to progress and regroup with the rest of the blue lions.

Sensing their precarious position, every time he loosed an arrow Ashe would peer back as if to make sure Annette was still there. A look of relief crossed his face each time he saw her still fighting.

Several volcanic boulders away, Dedue crushed the skull of a thief that had sliced through Mercedes’ shawl, drawing a line of blood after the blade. He brought his fist down again and destroyed the thief’s face beyond repair.

Mercedes placed a hand on his arm, a warning in her expression.

A cloud of dark energy interrupted them, descending on the duscan and he began to suffocate until the gentle young woman summoned a rare bolt of lightning against the mage that had summoned the magic and it dissipated in an instant.

In the ensuing lull, Mercedes held up her hands, eyes turning blank.

The young woman had killed once again with her magic, though her teammates knew how much she despised it.

Then Dedue caught them in his and bent his head to whisper something in her ear.

Whatever he said, it worked and light returned to her gaze. Mercedes nodded once at him before touching both hands to his chest, healing any wounds he had.

Byleth continued to assess the tide of battle from her vantage point on the field as her heart clenched at the sight of their spread formation caused by natural terrain. Ingrid’s troublesome fiancé had chosen the perfect location for his attack.

The man in question pealed with laughter as he watched the fighting from his secure corner at the northwestern part of the field.

If they could corner him…

“Professor!”

Byleth forced her attentions back in time to block an incoming blade and leap away as an arrow plunged into the red dirt below.

The swordsman that struck at her raced forward to catch her during the recovery of her landing and she swung around, sword at the ready, prepared to parry until she heard a low grunt.

Ripping through leather and flesh alike, a lance tore through the man’s heart from behind ending his life in an instant.

The mercenary dropped to ground in a heap, a contorted look of ugly surprise on his face, revealing a furious blue prince behind him breathing hard.

Copious amounts of sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, his affinity for cold climates and heightened body heat doing him no favors.

He had dismounted for close combat and had thrust his weapon forward from a simple stance, yet killed a man with such brutal efficiency that—

Dimitri wrenched his spear out of the man’s body, staining the ground a darker red, beast-like pupils alighting on her for a fraction of a second.

Then he surged past her, the ferocity of his movement causing her cape to flutter as he attacked another enemy coming from behind.

He caught the swordsman in the throat with the lethal point and Byleth could smell the beginnings of blood-wrath.

“Dimitri.” She said voice low in warning.

“Don’t worry about me, professor, I’ll be fine.” Dimitri replied, his own voice rough, and when Byleth peered over at him she could see him straining to control the savagery boiling just beneath the surface. “Focus on the others.”

His restraint worked and the dark, bitter smells dissipated, putting Byleth’s heart more at ease, but she still grit her teeth as the incident revealed the tenuous hold he had on the violence he was capable of.

“Still, you worry me,” was all she managed to say before a mounted mercenary penetrated Dedue’s section.

Byleth threw down her weapon as she unsheathed the creator sword all in a single motion and whipped the snake-like portion of her blade at his mount.

Her opponent had almost closed the distance when her blade sliced through his steed’s legs.

Brutish and short.

A screaming whinny pierced the air as the mercenary went flying only to fall into the waiting blade of Dimitri’s lance.

There was a crash of metal on metal and Byleth turned to see Dedue had slammed another fighter to the ground and placed a boot on the man’s neck.

She looked away just as he gasped, followed by a sick crack.

Dimitri caught her gaze as she did so and he threw aside the now deceased mercenary, though his eyes never left hers.

“I said I would kill for you, professor. I would kill them all before they laid a hand on you,” the ruthlessness of his vow matched only by screams of the dying men around them, hardened, blue eyes burning into hers. “This is what that looks like.”

A righteous king. A just king. These were his hopes and dreams for the future.

Now a third possibility arose as Byleth held his gaze.

A cruel king.

“NO!”

The terrible cry drove both their attentions towards the eastern side of the battlefield to see Felix kicking away the corpse of a lance bearer before he sank to his knees beside the red-headed knight on the ground.

He shoved both hands against the profuse bleeding in the crest-bearer’s side in the attempt to stymie it. White light blossomed between his fingers as Felix closed the wound. A superficial healing, however, as Sylvain coughed up a bright red through his teeth.

The roan from the stables lay dying behind them, riddled with arrows and spears.

“Sylvain you fool…” his lips seemed to say.

“Mercedes!” Byleth directed.

“I need more time, professor!” she cried back from afar and Byleth felt a sharp surprise as she saw her student’s eyes fraught with anxiety for the first time.

“Where’s Ingrid?” And, for once, Byleth could hear the panic lacing into Dimitri’s voice as he realized the severity of the situation.

There had been close calls before.

But never this close.

Byleth cursed. “We overestimated her reach. She won’t make it in time.”

Foreseeing Sylvain’s bitter end, the tide shifting towards possible death, Byleth reached within her for the familiar pull of the divine pulse.

And felt nothing.

She stumbled and Dimitri had to catch her before she fell to her knees at the shock of feeling nothing but emptiness where her divine powers used to be.

“Professor, what’s wrong?” He asked, his arms tightening around her.

Byleth didn’t respond as she struggled inside once more and her legs grew weak from the effort of attempting to summon magic she didn’t have.

Dimitri was all that kept her standing.

“I…”

Time slowed down to a crawl and, instead of the burning mountains in the distant landscape, she saw the towering steeple of an abandoned chapel. A terrible memory that had been buried deep and thought forgotten but, in the ensuing chaos, had resurfaced once again.

Fear lanced through Byleth’s heart. A complete, suffocating fear. That she had failed.

Again.

And now Sylvain was going to die.

“Professor.”

Waking her, a hand cradled her cheek and Byleth found herself looking into the clear blue eyes of someone she held close to her heart.

“I believe in you.”

“I can’t, Dimitri.” She said, the fear choking her, leaving her breathless.

Trembling.

Here she was falling apart in front of someone she should show nothing but strength. “I can’t—”

“I believe in you,” he said again and his thumb stroked the skin under her eye. “You’ve already saved us so many times.”

His words seemed to hold her as his arms did and the memory of the steeple grew a little more dim.

“Nothing can stop you from saving us again.”

As he said this, holding and soothing her, pulling her so close when the proximity must have been unbearable in the heat, a calm suffused her and her body relaxed, mind stilled.

Opening her up to the influence of a higher power she hadn’t felt in a long time.

The throne.

Words whispered on an ethereal wind born of days long past drifted past her ear.

The throne.

Byleth shook with a gasp.

A shimmering warmth surged up from within and pushed throughout her body and mind as the words reawakened sensations experienced not long ago at a source of Sothis’ power.

She hadn’t lost the power of divinity.

That divinity had simply taken on a new form.

“Thank you,” she said, placing a hand over his and squeezing him in assurance.

Disturbed though she was by the dark direction his promises had taken, the unwavering concern in his eyes showed her that there was still a chance.

A chance to make things right.

She pulled away from his embrace, the strength returning to her limbs.

Facing the rest of her students, she reached inside herself once more except this time she reached for the shining gold of her new power.

Fully formed. Roaring, like an undammed river.

Inspiration, whispered an alien hum along her consciousness, familiar in its disembodiment and un-existence, the presence of Sothis felt in every corner of her mind.

Byleth bowed her head in wordless gratitude at the assistance the Goddess had granted her, knowing that while she might never hear her voice again.

She was not alone.

Then Byleth released the power within her in a flood of energy.

Ingrid’s ex-fiancé cowered on the ground like the dog he was.

“Please,” he groveled, dirt smearing along his nose and cheeks. “Please don’t kill me. I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“No you were not.” Ingrid said, that same fury in her eyes as she regarded the pitiful man at her feet.

“You tried to force her hand in marriage to you. What makes you think you have any right to be spared?” hissed Dorothea, her hands opening and closing with the desire to draw her sword but the empty sheathe at her belt kept her from doing so. “I should cut you down right here and now for the gall—”

“No, no, no please!” He wailed, raising his hands in self-defense knowing that, although Dorothea had no visible weapon, he had seen the devastation she wrought with just her hands. “My mercenaries are gone and I am unarmed. You would be committing murder!”

“Your men almost killed Sylvain.” Felix growled as he stepped forward only for the red-head himself to raise an arm, holding him back. “Give me the chance and I will tear you apart myself.”

Byleth didn’t miss the look Sylvain gave his child-hood friend as Felix spoke, an expression that was neither his usual amusement nor casual disregard. A different look altogether.

“That’s enough.”

Dimitri clasped a hand on Ingrid’s shoulder as he spoke up before things got out of hand.

The years of friendship between them allowed him to touch her at such a turbulent time and Ingrid turned her head to gaze at him with a trust she wouldn’t have given anyone else.

Dimitri addressed the group.

“Although I also have my own opinions on how we should deal with this man, the final decision must be up to Ingrid.”

He squeezed her shoulder in assurance.

“It’s your choice,” he said in a quieter voice meant for just the two of them. “Do what you think is right.” Then he pulled his hand away and stepped back, giving her room to breathe.

Room to think.

Byleth watched the scene from her place near the back, seeing the stiffening of Ingrid’s shoulders as she decided what to do with the lordling in the dirt.

For all her stories of knighthood, Byleth wondered if any could have prepared the girl for the kind of choice she was about to make.

Ingrid’s shoulders tensed even further, her hand closing into a fist, the one holding her spear shaking ever so slightly.

The blue lions waited for her to make the decision.

Then came a clatter of wood and the subsequent scream of shock from the man at her feet as Ingrid threw down her weapon and began to walk away.

A collective sigh seemed to echo throughout the group.

The battle was finally over.

Ashe had taken several steps before he turned to ask Ingrid how she was feeling.

“Hey—"

“Watch out!”

The cry came too late as Byleth whipped around just as the noble came charging at his once bride-to-be, her spear in hand aimed straight at her heart.

“No!” Dorothea screamed.

Eyes wide with surprise, Ingrid had no time to react.

“Die, you stupid bitch!” He roared.

Then a strange whistling sound filled the air.

The spear was a needle point away from Ingrid’s breast when—

An axe hacked into his hands slicing both clean off, sending flesh and metal flying into a nearby pit.

The lordling stared down at the stumps where his wrists used to be, mouth agape. A high, pitched whine began to issue from his—

A massive creature dropped out of the sky and rammed him to the ground before he could make another sound.

A figure landing next to Ingrid as it did so.

The creature latched its claws onto his body then pushed off into the scarlet sky with a powerful beat of its lizard-like wings, prey in tow.

As their combined silhouettes grew smaller and smaller, the noble finally found his voice and began to scream. His cries echoed and echoed throughout the valley until they faded into the distance.

“S-Seteth?” Ingrid asked after they could no longer hear anything but the light bubbling of lava in the pits nearby.

She looked up at the figure before her, stunned.

“P-professor—”

His dark, green curls wild in the suffocating heat, clothes sticking to his skin, Seteth raised his hand palm up, a warm, determined smile on his face despite the suddenness of his appearance.

Byleth could only thank the gods she had notified him of the situation prior to departing the monastery.

“I’m proud of you,” He said, his eyes shining with that same pride. “You performed wonderfully today.”

He extended his hand towards the young student.

“You’ve done what you came here to do. Now let’s go home.”

At first Ingrid looked as if she suspected another trick, her posture stiff and unyielding before the wyvern lord.

Seteth continued to smile, his hand outstretched, and trust began to relax her shoulders, her expression softening.

As Ingrid looked for a time into the eyes of the man before her, at the confidence in his bearing, at the sincerity in his gaze, a grateful, happy smile bloomed across her face.

She rested her hand in his.

And the blue lions returned home.

* * *

The ceiling of his room was stained a deep blue.

Vague and absent, the sight passed through Byleth’s consciousness as her arms and legs tangled in a mess of limbs and hot breaths and heated thrusts as hardened, muscular hips pressed between her legs, penetrating her again and again and again.

Byleth had come here for a reason.

A deep, deep dark blue melted into the wood.

But her mind couldn’t remember why.

Sweet, delicious cinnamon swept her up into a haze of base pleasure as she pressed her nose against the source, her tongue swiping out to draw a wet, messy line against the raised skin her lips found.

Tortured and ragged, a low groan drew out of the warm silhouette she had wrapped between her legs and arms and the hands cupped around her bottom flexed hard into the skin, enough to leave bruises.

The visit had something to do with his behavior of late, the events at Ailell still fresh in the mind, and involving her concern at the twisted path her young charge seemed to be following.

But then she had stepped past the doors into his room and Dimitri had been there to lock them behind her.

The last thing she could remember was the sight of his aroused pupils before he caught her in a heated kiss, his last shred of control gone.

She hoped he left marks.

Dimitri issued steady, gasping breaths as he entered and re-entered her slick entrance.

She hoped they stood out dark and distinct against the skin.

“Harder,” she whispered into his shoulder, her wrists rubbing light tracks along his upper back, drowning him further in the smell of her arousal. “Fuck me harder.”

There was a sudden growl and then her knees lifted past his shoulders as Dimitri penetrated her from a new angle, reaching even deeper inside of her than she thought possible.

Nothing existed but the steady breaking of his thrusts as they became uneven and rough and the harsh note of his grunts as she heard him coming close to completion.

Byleth noted that without the use of his fangs he still couldn’t hold out long enough to bring her to fruition, but she thought this with a warm fondness in her chest.

There would be plenty of chances for practice, the inappropriate part of her mused.

“Dimitri, remember not to come inside,” she whispered, tracing a hand along the lean muscle of his thigh.

“Oh seiros, I just want to fill you up,” he gasped and the thought must have been too much because he snapped his cock out of her within the next few thrusts and a ropy whiteness coated her breasts and stomach as Dimitri came in a shaking breath.

He collapsed into her arms as he produced the last of his spend and Byleth stroked his blonde hair as she whispered to him, “You did good,” the come on her skin turning sticky with exposure. “Very good.”

“Mmm,” Dimitri murmured, sleepy.

Looking at the stars outside his window, undimmed even in the light of the candelabra, Byleth wondered how late into the night they had gone.

As she continued playing with his hair, Byleth promised to speak to him of the matter another time.

“We have time yet, Dimitri,” she whispered.

A gentle snoring began to rise from the prince in her arms.

“But sometimes I feel it is ever so close to running out.”

* * *

Feeling very much like the time at the bathhouse, Byleth closed the door behind her as quiet as possible.

She had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time she walked back to her own room like a thief in the night. She really had to stop visiting Dimitri at the end of the day. The chances of sex over conversation increased by several fold during a certain time period and Byleth also wondered if perhaps the marks on her shoulder also were to blame.

He had been more quick to arouse of late.

Thoughts of timing and conversation still on her mind, she wasn’t prepared when the door next to Dimitri’s burst open and someone came storming out of the room.

Felix startled at the sight of her as he entered the corridor, their eyes meeting and a great shock widening his brown eyes. But before Byleth could say a word his eyes snapped back behind him as if he were looking for someone and then when he saw no one there he rushed past her as if the hounds of hell were at his heel.

A deep blush had painted every possible inch of his cheeks, his pupils and fangs sharp as can be.

Then his flushed, transformed complexion whipped out of sight as he continued his relentless path down the hall and around the corner.

More curious than anything else, Byleth turned back to the room Felix came from before shaking her head in surprise as she remembered who it belonged to.

She approached the doorway then peered inside.

Sylvain sat on the floor, arm on one knee, his other hand clasped against an angry welt on his cheek.

“Ah man.” His fangs scraped his lips as he spoke, a trickle of blood sitting just at the corner. His tongue slipped out, licking it away. Tracing his lips.

As if tasting for something.

He chuckled, the sound bringing Byleth’s attention back to his eyes, as he brought his hand away from his cheek.

Closing his eyes, he gave a helpless smile.

“I really messed it up this time, professor.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

A cutting, bone-deep chill thrashed into her from all sides. 

Byleth struggled against the bitter cold but her arms and legs swung only to find a rushing emptiness. An endless darkness surrounded her body as she reached out with an instinct born of desperation into the black to find purchase on something, anything, but the edges of the abyss eluded her as Byleth’s mind came to a single, blurry conclusion.

Death felt like falling.

She thrust out her hand, but instead of a sudden movement her arm shifted as if murky and bloated to where she wanted it to go, fingers spreading wide with a painful slowness as she willed magic into the tips.

At first Byleth thought the magic didn’t take until a single flame sputtered out and illuminated something beside her.

The sight of empty, dull eyes.

Mouth hanging open, blonde hair and blue cape flailing in the wind, Dimitri stared back at her in gruesome death as blood flew upwards from an open wound in his torn throat.

Fear and shock gripped Byleth’s chest just as pale, cracked lips began to move.

He seemed to be saying something.

_What…? What…? What are you saying? _Byleth tried to ask but her voice didn’t seem to work.

A gloved hand fisted into her shirt. 

Dragging her towards the mouth.

And a rotting, dead voice asked her,

“How could you let this happen to me?”

Then his mouth turned into a sudden, gaping hole.

Byleth opened her mouth to scream but the darkness swallowed the sound in its greedy maw and then there was a horrible laughter echoing everywhere in the darkness.

And echoing and echoing and echoing and—

“—Byleth!”

She woke to the sound of her name and someone shaking her shoulder as a low groan dredged its way out of her throat. 

Warm fingers and then a calloused palm stroked her cheek as a blue cape draped over a chair shifted into focus first, then the wooden study desk behind, and then the dull, repeating pattern of the dorm room wallpaper. 

The cape and the soft silk of the cerulean sheets swathed around her waist served as the only distinguishing features in the room until Byleth leaned into the comforting touch against her cheek and the stained blue of the ceiling met her eye once again.

She remembered the sight from a few nights ago on this very bed.

“Dimitri…” she murmured, turning towards the prince sharing her sheets.

She had spent the night this time without meaning to. 

The quiet of the early morning darkness replaced their voices for a time.

Then Dimitri asked, “What were you dreaming about?”

His thumb began rubbing in circles under her eyes, in a soothing way that had become familiar. 

Here in the warm sheets of his bed, held by the one she cared for more than anything—

Byleth bit her lip to cut off her line of thought.

Dimitri’s eyes flickered down and then back up and the light scent of his sweet arousal settled between them.

From this distance, she could see the worrying, persistent bruising under his—

Empty, dead eyes.

Horror rose in her breast as dream overlapped with reality for a single heart-wrenching second. Nightmare. Before expressive blue eyes looked back at her once more and Byleth forced bile back down inside her through sheer will.

Concern flashed through his eyes and Byleth shook her head to indicate she didn’t want to talk about it.

Sometimes the truth was better left unspoken. 

So she leaned forward instead. 

His lashes tickled her skin as she pressed up against him and she noticed, for the first time, how long they were.

His warmth, his smooth skin save for the peppering of scars here and there, his strength, feeling him underneath her helped dim the lingering touch of that nightmare.

“Professor…?" 

But she shushed him with a finger to his lips and then, slow and inviting, she continued leaning forward and her movements brought out a low intake of breath from him before the plush of his lips pressed up against hers as Byleth tasted him with a gentle kiss. 

She wondered if this would set off the spark needed to drive him over the edge.

The marks on her shoulder had changed something between them and the past few nights had been a heated entanglement of sex and scent and mindlessness, as if the alpha before her had the constant need to have her, mark her, until a satisfaction could be met.

Some requirement that went beyond just sliding inside of her with his cock.

Her hands moved down to his wrists where she felt his pulse quicken, where she felt the raised skin of his glands, knowing the answer to that requirement lay on the same raised skin placed between her neck and shoulder.

Byleth swiped her tongue across his lip in a teasing invitation. A bold move she would have left for Dimitri to make, but the lingering horror of her dream made her more reckless than before. 

He made a low noise of surprise. It was the first in their time together that she had done such a thing.

He reached for her.

But before he could grab hold, bring her close and open his mouth to let her in, she pulled away with a playful laugh. 

She gave him a matching grin and—

His arousal, sudden and thick in the air.

Byleth managed a soft, “Oh!” before Dimitri gave a low growl and caught her at the hips, pressing her into his bed and catching her with rough kiss. 

Cinnamon and sweetness slickened the passageway to her glands, his tongue pressing past her mouth and against hers in his hunger as he slid his hands under her thighs, spread her legs.

And entered her. 

  
His cock filled her up so quick Byleth cried into their kiss and her arms had no choice but to pull him into an embrace as he began to make repeated, focused thrusts inside of her, squelching inside with each push of his hips as her slick guided him in from their shared arousal. 

Dimitri broke the kiss then pressed his lips against the sensitive skin of her ear and whispered, “This is what you do to me. Every time…” He took her breath with every thrust. “Every time you kiss me, touch me…”

She nuzzled him so that their foreheads were touching, sweat blending their bangs together, the breaths from his exertions hot against her nose, her lips. 

“I feel like I’m losing my mind.” 

A whimper left her throat at his words, at the increasing roughness of his thrusts, at the restrained violence of his movements. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she would need to leave his room soon, before the monastery began to awaken.

But she also knew he would finish soon as Dimitri’s breathing grew ragged against her skin, felt the familiar change of pace in his hips. She held him close, embracing him, feeling the sweat along his neck, the glands there that awaited a promise of her own.

A promise she felt more and more compelled to give as they repeated these shared intimacies of theirs. As he acquainted himself with her body and she with his. 

Dimitri shuddered and the warmth of his seed covered her stomach and the underside of her breasts as he came in broken, uneven thrusts and Byleth stroked along his cheek and hairline in appreciation of the passion he put forth each time their bodies came together.

“Have you noticed…” she began as Dimitri dropped to her side and reached for the wet towel he had been preparing their past few sessions to wipe away the mess he left on her each time he finished. “Anything different about Sylvain and Felix?”

Dimitri had been about to clean her up when the question made him pause. 

As he collected his thoughts, Byleth took the towel from him and began cleaning herself up. Though Dimitri came in short fashion, he always left a veritable amount of spend behind, an amount that never ceased to amaze her.

When he spoke again, he looked sheepish as he said, “I have to admit, I have not.”

“I see,” Byleth said in a teasing voice, knowing full well what he had actually been spending his time noticing. “Keep an eye out for those two next time. I have a feeling things will come to a head soon between them.” 

Dimitri gave a pointed look at the wall connecting his to Sylvain’s. “Is this anything to do with the arguments I’ve been hearing this past week?”

Perhaps not all his time, Byleth thought. Then replied, “Maybe.”

He sighed, tucking his face into the crook of her neck as he said, “Those two have always been like that.”

She decided not to press the matter further and, as the two of them lay together in the ensuing silence in appreciation of the time they had left, Byleth remembered she had one last burning question for the alpha beside her. 

“So… how ever did Sylvain get that bruise?”

* * *

In the crisp morning of spring, the blue lions drilled and practiced for the upcoming assault on the monastery grasslands, a sizeable area of flatland with enough room for several battalions, stretching a ways before dropping off the mountain cliffside into the valley below.

The sight of the cliff’s edge made Byleth shudder as she positioned her students far away from such a location.

Even white magic might not be enough to recover the remains if a tussle pushed a student off the edge. 

The end of a stone-tipped lance pointed at Byleth from across the grass, the gloved hand wielding the weapon steady and confident. 

Positioned in similar fashion amidst makeshift sparring lanes marked in the grass, several more of the blue lions faced one another, weapons drawn. Magic was forbidden and Dorothea the only mage staged within a sparring lane, sword at the ready in opposition to Dedue’s stone axe. 

The performer had joined their house with little fanfare, the others welcoming her into the fold, Ingrid with particular enthusiasm. 

The pegasus rider served as a referee of sorts, along with Annette whose wind magic stirred the grass below her, prepared to intervene should the fighting go out of hand. Beside them stood Mercedes, her shawl wrapped tight around her in defense against the natural winds blowing through the mountain range, ready to heal any serious wounds during or after a fight. 

Today the spar would not end until the other yielded as with any other match. But until now these skirmishes had been relegated to tournaments and never held as part of the curriculum. 

The threat of war had changed more than a few things at Garreg Mach. 

Byleth sank into a defensive stance, training sword in hand.

Sylvain greeted her with crinkled eyes and a wide smile.

“Already, professor?” He said, his voice pitched just enough for his words to come like a taunt but not quite. “But the battle hasn’t started yet.”

In the lane beside them, Dimitri faced off against Felix, his posture as regal and proper as ever.

But there had been nothing proper about the weight of his gaze on her person as the muscles in her stomach and thighs flexed as she entered her stance, a show only exacerbated by the shortness of her shirt and the black netting along her legs.

Times like these she regretted having such revealing clothing. Or did she actually enjoy it? She wondered as Dimitri’s gaze slid away with clear reluctance and willpower. 

“Anytime now, Sylvain,” Byleth replied, maintaining a neutral look despite the less than appropriate thoughts running through her mind, a smile hovering just behind her lips. “I’m waiting.”

She hoped those thoughts didn’t translate into scent.

“Begin!” Ingrid cried.

Sylvain attacked right as the words left her mouth, thrusting his lance forward with a fierce cry. 

Honed by years and years of instinct, Byleth shifted her feet and swiped her blade sideways, rapping the wood into his weapon with such force it drove his aim off course and opened him up for a strike to the shoulder. An attack she utilized often against lance-users.

She cried out in her own ferocity as she stepped in to swing down for a debilitating blow.

He timed the path of her blade and dodged before the wooden blade could numb his shoulder and swung the shaft of his lance upwards towards her torso.

Byleth blocked the counterattack and prepared for Sylvain to shove her away to create space for another piercing strike. 

Only for him to do the unexpected and drop his head down to her ear.

“I can smell him on you,” he whispered.

She flinched in surprise, the pressure of her blade reduced, a sign of uneven footwork. Sylvain threw his weight forward and sent her flying back.

The blue lions had accepted her new scent, Byleth thought. A scent that marked not only the intimacy of a relationship but the identity of her partner.

Byleth tucked in her body and used the momentum to roll backwards, returning to her feet. 

They had accepted it as a matter of course. A consequence of the trying times ahead.

Sylvain rushed forward to seize the advantage, his expression somehow both teasing and intense all at once. 

They continued to take direction from their professor and house leader with nary a look of disgust nor disapproval.

She dodged just in time. Until the tip of the lance caught a stray piece of her coat and the ferocity of his attack wrenched her backwards again and pinned her to the ground.

But, Byleth supposed, that didn’t stop people like Sylvain from having their fun. 

He crouched down to catch her with his free hand by the throat and force a yield when Byleth slipped out of her coat just in time to roll aside.

And tackle him to the ground.

A grunt of surprise followed by a shout and Byleth had her sword at his throat, her hips straddling him above the waist in a position of dominance. 

“Yield,” she demanded.

When he smirked at her but said nothing she pressed down harder, digging her knees tighter into his ribs. 

“Yield.” She said one last time.

Defiant, amber eyes blazed back at her, bringing back a reminder that this was the same young man who had struck down his own brother for the sake of his classmates and that one might need to draw a great deal of blood before he would ever bring himself to yield before those that might do them harm.

Then that ardor melted from his gaze and Sylvain returned to his usual, good-humored self.

He raised both hands in defeat and Byleth relaxed, pulling the weapon away from his neck.

She had left a red indent.

“I forgot you knew how to brawl, professor,” he chuckled. “Probably because you’re always taking your opponents out before they can lay a finger on you. Guess that means I did pretty good to get this close, eh?”

“I supposed that’s one way of looking at it,” she replied.

Which was why she should have expected what came next.

When Byleth rose to begin assessing the others a pair of hands grabbed her own, jostling the sword out of her grip.

Sylvain pulled her down, meeting her halfway.

“But I wonder what our prince will think when he sees us like this. Will his princely mind explode I wonder? Will he punch me again?”

His grin turned almost gleeful and Byleth broke free one hand and raised it to lob him a good one herself when she heard a grunt of pain from Dimitri’s direction and twisted sideways to see what happened.

Felix had disarmed him, Dimitri shaking his hand in pain from the attack he failed to parry, his weapon on the ground. He looked furious and, though the expression didn’t seem to be directed at anyone in particular, Byleth fought back a shiver as she imagined what it must feel like to be on the receiving end of it.

The wind carried with it a musty-bitter smell that Byleth couldn’t place it until she heard Sylvain laugh from below her.

Jealousy. The smell was jealousy.

Byleth looked back down at the noble beneath her and had shaken her other hand out of his grip for the promise of two lobs against his head this time when an intrigued voice said,

“Well, well, that is certainly a very compromising position, teach. What _are _you teaching your students these days?” 

Sylvain’s eyes widened in surprise and Byleth raised her head.

Claude and his shock of brilliant yellow stood before her and before Byleth could ask when he even arrived, he extended a hand.

She took the offer and he pulled her up with such strength she almost collided with his chest, bringing her close enough to see the full extent of the layered grin he had on his face.

What surprises would Claude bring with him today, Byleth wondered.

Then she saw the retinue of golden deer behind them, students wielding weapons she had never seen them wielding before, and Byleth put two and two together in her mind.

“Mind if we join in?”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

The passing of her father, Jeralt, had hurt the people closest to him; those that knew him as a father. A friend.

A mentor.

His death had saddened a few souls.

It had shaken that of Byleth. Perhaps tested that of Rhea’s.

But there was another whom she remembered on the fringes of her memory at Garreg Mach. An ever constant presence at her father’s side wherever he went.

Someone who would nurse the incident as an affront to all that they stood for.

Angry, auburn eyes glared at the newest member of the blue lions, who gazed back with a wariness in her olive-green eyes. She kept them steady and controlled.

“_You_.”

But only just. 

Dorothea’s hand clenched the hilt of her sword with an anxiety Byleth had noticed on occasion during their conversations.

The young woman did not like others disliking her.

“What are you still doing here?” Leonie ground out and stepped forward, her lance raised halfway as if to strike. Or anticipating one.

“Counting down the days before you stab us all in the—?”

“Calm. Leonie.” Claude sobered up for the first time since the onset of war and raised a hand, his gaze smooth and calculating for a fraction of a second. As close to an order as Byleth had seen him make. “That isn’t what we’re here for.”

Leonie grit her teeth, the anger refusing to leave her gaze, but she lowered her weapon. With reluctance.

“Then what are we here for?” a small figure in the back of his retinue grumbled.

Byleth could see the top of a ghost-white head of hair over Claude’s shoulder and concluded the speaker could only be Lysithea, the academy’s renowned magical prodigy. A young student, one of the youngest, and known to have a tongue sharp enough to pare stones.

“Surely not to wave at each other with sticks. There’s better things to be done. We’ve got a war coming on for Seiros sake.”

Her words could have set the tone for the entire interaction until a cheerful voice said,

“You’re just jealous you didn’t get anything to play with, Lizzie.”

A great bear of a young man proceeded to bend down and snatch the girl up, the buttons of his shirt stretched to bursting, as he nuzzled a large fist into her head in play.

“Get—get off me, you big oaf!” She screeched.

Her kicks and swipes failed to phase him as Raphael, cheerful and dense as ever, began twirling her round and round.

Byleth heard Mercedes giggle from afar, followed by the sound of shifting grass as the remainder of the blue lions began making their way to the center of the commotion.

Irritated by the sight, the purple-haired noble beside them sniffed in a visible disdain, as if their actions were below his station, a contrast to the inviting, fresh rose he always kept in his lapel.

Byleth thought Lorenz to have turned away from the sight out of sheer contempt until she saw him facing the pair of students studying in the grass apart from the others.

Left without real involvement in the day’s training, Byleth had allowed Ashe and Marianne to do as they saw fit on their on their own and both had decided on reading.

Lorenz seemed to have noticed her but Marianne had not and, as she studied, he continued to watch her from afar.

An amused chuckle came from where Sylvain stood conversing with another one of the golden deer, his arms behind his head in casual fashion.

Lorenz continued to watch the forlorn girl in the distance, his expression appearing neutral, nothing standing out in particular.

Until briefest look of regret crossed his features.

Neat ponytails of light pink pushed into her field of vision all of a sudden and Byleth backed up in time for Sylvain’s conversation partner to step past Claude into her personal space and say, with a wave of her hand,

“Hay, professor!” She stood before her with a smile in place both polite and imploring. “Ready to have some —”

Then she flinched and fell silent.

Claude grinned a little wider.

Just like that a crest-bearer with a designation in the golden deer revealed herself.

Hilda breathed in.

Her pupils sharpened, confirming Byleth’s suspicions, incredulity covering the whimsical girl’s face.

Another alpha.

The smile on Claude’s face reminded Byleth of a card player that had played his ace in a magnificent royal flush and she began to think that maybe this had been part of his plan all along…

A prickling sensation started up in the very back of her neck, then spread. All along her shoulders, her glands. Until the hairs there began to raise.

“Ah, good timing!” Claude raised an arm in greeting as if nothing had happened. “I was asking teach here if we can have a little fun today with everyone. After all,” his lips curling in his usual grin. “We’re all that the monastery has left aren’t we?”

Dimitri stepped up beside her, boots flattening the ankle-high grass, presence close enough to warm.

Hilda winced and the incredulity disappeared to be replaced by a guarded look.

He didn’t say anything at first.

An incredible awareness of him traveled along her body as he stood there, every part of her feeling his presence without the need for touch.

She felt his eyes on her.

“Not the only thing.” Dimitri said, after a time.

His attention turned to Claude and the strange tension Byleth felt in her shoulders went away.

She wondered if any of this had any to do with earlier…

“I brought gifts. Ignatz!” Claude waved and on cue the glass-wearing merchant’s son behind him stepped forward.

Weapons that looked out of place in the hands of the timid, blonde, Ignatz held an axe by the handle in one hand and a sword in the other. Another sword was strapped to his back.

Glancing Dimitri’s way, she saw him raise an eyebrow.

“Who…?”

Claude nodded in the direction Lorenz had been looking.

Less than a minute later Marianne gave a cry of surprise as a sword fell in her lap, upending her spell-book, and an axe missed Ashe’s head by a hair as Ignatz tripped over one of his outstretched legs.

“I’m so sorry!” He cried out as both boys wound up a tangle of limbs.

Dimitri crossed his arms.

“What’s the point of having them train on weapons they aren’t familiar with when we need to be focusing on our strengths?” He had an edge to his voice that Byleth wasn’t used to hearing, antagonistic somehow.

“Ashe has some skill with the axe but not enough for an advantage in battle and Marianne has not touched a blade since her time with us.”

Claude met the challenge with unconcealed delight.

“That’s where you went wrong.” His eyes gleamed with contained energy. “You can always be good at what you’re good at, but your weaknesses stay just that. Weaknesses. Unless you do something about them.”

He came closer and, despite the slight difference in height, carried himself with an air that placed him on equal footing with the princeling before him.

“I would know. After all. Mari comes from my house and she’s only with you because of the professor so maybe there are a few things about her you still don’t know…”

He glanced at Byleth as he said this and all of a sudden the look in his guys filled her with the strongest feeling he wasn’t just talking about the girl’s abilities to wield a sword.

The conversation stilled as two house leaders stared each other down and a silence settled over the group.

Words from some time ago arose in her mind, rising like something unburied.

Byleth thought of the fear in Marianne’s eyes as she had whispered them into the air then retreated as if the mere sound of them carried some unholy power.

The crest of beasts.

“Professor… what are we to do with these weapons?”

As if summoned by those very thoughts and breaking the silence, which caused both young men to step apart, her withdrawn form appeared before them.

Her voice less than a whisper on the spring winds, she looked as if she might blow away with them.

Ashe followed close behind, Ignatz with him and axe in hand.

Byleth felt the eyes of everyone in the group come to rest on her.

Dimitri watched her as well, an unreadable expression on his face.

What was he thinking as he looked at her, Byleth wondered, as those crystalline blue eyes gazed into her own. It was getting harder and harder to tell.

Then she turned to address the crowd, voice unwavering despite the uncertainty of inside her, and said,

“We fight.”

Felix stretched lithe muscles as he warmed up on one end of the sparring lane, focused and anticipating the chance to use his sword-arm again.

Across the way, Ingrid completed drills with her lance as she conducted a warm-up of her own.

Rising from a single, deep stretch, Felix broke concentration to scowl at the insufferable red-head that kept glancing his way from his position on the field. Sylvain would be overseeing the spar for his childhood friends.

As well as the antagonistic duo staring each other down in the next lane.

“Oh, please, I’ll have you tasting the end of this wooden blade by the end of the match. Don’t waste my time.” Dorothea said with a flip of her hair, ever the actress.

Leonie turned a deep shade of red.

“You’ll regret those words, traitor,” she growled and Byleth would have mistaken her for an alpha in the beginnings of blood-wrath if it weren’t for the hunter’s lack of crest.

The performer yawned in bold disregard for the heated threats of her classmate and Leonie looked as if she might just rush forward for an attack, to hell with the rules.

One lane over, Lorenz chided his gloomy opponent as she held the sword in her hands like one holding a hibernating snake. A snake that might wake in the next few minutes.

“Mari, stop it. It’s unbecoming of a noble to look so skittish. Straighten up please.”

“Relax, Marianne. You’ll do wonderful.” Mercedes called out from her place as referee in an effort to comfort the other girl, but her classmate only held the sword further away.

To the other side of Mercedes, Raphael and Dedue faced off, one an excitable mass of muscle and the other a stoic, stoic young man.

“I hear you make a mean steak,” Raphael rolled a massive arm, gauntlets at the ready, as the mere thought of food brought a line of drool to the edge of his mouth. “If I win, can you cook me one?”

“Okay.” Dedue agreed without hesitation. He stood still, axe at the ready, awaiting Mercedes’ signal to begin.

“Hey.”

Staged in the lane next to Dedue, Ashe called out to his sparring partner in shared sympathy as he hefted the unwieldy axe in both hands.

“Hey.” Ignatz called back, a light blush dusting his cheeks in embarrassment at how awkward a figure he cut with the sword held in clear unfamiliarity.

“Sooo you were one all along, huh?”

The question brought Byleth’s attention back to the pink-haired student before her.

“What?”

A little shocked, Byleth stared as she realized a student had just spoken of such matters before so many others. 

“Sorry if I offended you, professor.” Hilda blushed as she spoke. “My father always did tell me I had the worst manners!” She looked apologetic enough, but the aggressive stance her legs took on as she readied her axe, held like an extension of her own arm, seemed to say otherwise.

Byleth found her eyes flicking in instinct to Dimitri’s silent form as he served as a referee for both her and Ashe.

Claude had him occupied in a conversation exclusive to the two of them. He stood close enough to brush shoulders with the other house leader, the alliance heir whispering something into Dimitri’s ear that seemed to be doing no favors for his expression.

His gaze strayed towards Byleth as if he were about to look her way, but turned aside at the last second to glare at a distant cliff.

Claude seemed to be enjoying himself as a roguish smile covered his face even as Dimitri refused to speak a word to him after he finished talking. After all, he had paired Hilda up with Byleth from the very beginning.

He always did like getting under people’s skin.

“Let’s get started already!” Lysithea cried from where she stood with Annette, temper flaring and proving Raphael’s words true. She hated having been relegated to the sidelines. “Hmph. Leaving the poor mages out to dry. I thought better of you Claude.”

“I’m glad you were even thinking of me at all, Lizzie,” said Claude never missing a beat to which Lysithea only scowled harder. Then he turned back to the blue prince beside him and asked,

“Would you like to do the honors?”

Raphael stopped rolling his shoulders and slapped his hands together in a show of enthusiasm then bent down to a near crouch. He grinned with genuine excitement as his opponent continued to watch him without changing expression.

“Tch.” Felix flexed from a stretch straight into his stance as his focus became needle-sharp. Ingrid did the same and positioned the tip of her spear at the swordsman before her, the familiarity of her posture owing to the shared training she had with the red-headed lance-bearer overseeing their fight.

Ignatz couldn’t hide the slight shake in his hands as he tensed in anticipation of the start.

Dorothea flicked her sword in neat arcs on either side of her in one final warm-up as Leonie stood poised with a hungry energy about her, her desire to cross weapons with the Adrestian almost humming throughout her entire body.

“Take advantage of this opportunity, everyone.” Dimitri spoke for the first time since the match-ups had been made and all lanes fell quiet. He looked every inch the seasoned leader, his voice authoritative and commanding. “This won’t be like a tournament. You are all either fighting at an advantage or a disadvantage. Make every attack count.”

Then he wrest an arm in the air, palm open and fingers spread wide. “Now go! Fight!”

Raphael charged forward with a wild cry.

Leonie surged towards Dorothea with the perfect coldness of a born hunter.

Ignatz cried out, “Yyyyyyaaaaaahhhhhhhh!” as loud as he could and ran forward with his sword raised high.

Hilda came in abrupt and assertive with a powerful swing of her axe that closed the distance faster than any normal opponent would be capable of.

Byleth raised her blade in the defensive and parried the first blow in a fight that would challenge the foundations of her swordsmanship.

And, throughout the remainder of the exchange, she would feel the burning pressure of Dimitri’s gaze on her body again and again as his eyes seemed to trace her every move. 

Hilda gave a savage shout, sharp pupils flashing, as she came in for her third attempt at sudden death.

Her sword missing pieces here and there, Byleth threw herself aside in a far-reaching roll that brought her well out of range from the brutal attack that would have shattered her weapon and rendered her an automatic loss.

She took the respite the distance offered her as an opportunity to catch her breath.

The alpha had worked herself into mild frenzy and Byleth wondered if any of the others could sense it.

Different from blood-wrath, but a potential pre-cursor to it, Felix and Sylvain had exhibited the same tendencies during the fighting at Ailell. The advantage hadn’t been enough to overcome the overwhelming odds and Byleth suspected it may have even opened Sylvain up for the serious injury he sustained that day.

Byleth had also noticed a ways back that her inspiration did not inspire frenzies.

Breathing ragged and heavy, Hilda positioned her axe for another head-on attack.

Her techniques, unlike the interspersed but devastating strikes Dedue dealt his enemies, involved covering the openings in her attacks with a barrage of violent, overwhelming engagements.

Her lack of a bitter scent also provided proof that she had not descended into blood-wrath. At least not yet.

However, fighting with non-lethal weapons would not be pushing the pink-haired girl over the edge anytime soon.

And Byleth still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

Every so often during her travels, she had come across the occasional berserker. Axe-wielders who prided themselves in the mindless, violent style of some long-forgotten master.

Her father, after her first encounter with one of these fighters, taught her swordplay that could challenge and fool them every time.

House Goneril must have branched from a similar style of fighting except with a more refined take, though she wondered how much of it Hilda had left to learn as the fighting up until now had demonstrated an impressive level of skill for her age.

Sinking back into her defensive stance and relying on muscle memory, Byleth held her sword in a style she had stopped using long ago.

A time before Garreg Mach and before she learned what it meant to have a complete soul and a beating heart.

She heard a sharp intake of breath come from the sidelines and then heard Claude whisper,

“Blade of the ashen demon…”

His prior knowledge of her abilities made sense as some of Byleth’s most notable contracts had taken place in portions of the Leicester alliance.

Hilda charged, swinging her axe in high aggression from a low-reaching arc in a technique that would knock the legs out from underneath her and require great strength to block. Byleth stayed as she was, feet in place, blade at the ready.

The axe rushed towards her, coming closer and closer.

Her blade remained unmoving.

Uncertainty flashed across Hilda’s face as the axe continued to fly upwards at her torso. First several feet away, then a foot, then inches, then…

Cold as the chill winds blowing through the mountains of Garreg Mach, colder still than a winter in the northern Fodlan wilds, Byleth waited until the head of the axe almost kissed the fabric of her coat.

Then she slipped her wooden blade in between that remaining space and applied just enough pressure at the right angle to guide the axe far enough out of place that the swing went wide and Byleth slipped beneath the blow.

Blade of the ashen demon, the technique Jeralt had tailored to his daughter’s strange and unsettling demeanor, became known as such because of the incredible disregard for death that such a move required in order for it to work. 

Shocked, pink eyes greeted her blade as it sliced into Hilda’s torso and drove all the breath out of her body knocking her off balance and with a firm push from Byleth sent her tumbling to the ground.

The axe flew out of her hands as Hilda fell into the grass, the skirt she wore as a part of her daily uniform blowing inside out from an errant gust of wind.

“Whoop!” She cried out.

The sight jolted Byleth out of a trance she had entered of her own accord, a consequence of the technique.

She watched the girl struggle with her skirt for a while longer before the first laugh Byleth had had in a while came bubbling out of her chest.

“Professor!” Hilda whined in indignation as she flattened her skirt back down and sat up so that she could show Byleth an overexaggerated pout. “You definitely shouldn’t be laughing at something like that!”

Tossing her weapon aside, she walked over to the girl and knelt down beside her, the act bringing Byleth down to her level.

“I can’t help it, Hilda,” she teased. “You made it all look so amusing.”

The young girl brought her face closer as she replied, “Haha very funny. Well just so you know I’d rather die than fall over like that a second time— oh…”

She cut off again like before and Byleth froze.

Fascination spread slow and gradual across her face as nostrils flared while she breathed in quick.

Then a second time. Then a third.

And then.

Hands placed on to her chest, followed by a light but unexpected push.

And Byleth found herself on her back.

“What’s this?” Many pink strands of hair tickled her face as she gazed up into Hilda’s transformed gaze, a knee pressing between her bent legs. “You smell…”

Then the alpha pressed into her neck, long hair covering Byleth’s eyes.

“Sooo good…”

“H-Hilda, wait.” Byleth stuttered as she raised her arms and clenched into the noble’s uniform in an effort to pull her away.

Then hot breath blew against the tender skin near the crook of her neck and she froze again, this time from an instinct that had come to her many times before but the first where it had worked so greatly against her.

“Good enough to eat.”

As the alpha closed the distance, teeth sharp and piercing scratching the surface of her skin, Byleth heard the distinct sound of footsteps tearing through the grass.

Then Hilda was wrenched away.

They had her by the scruff of her neck and as the female alpha bared her fangs in clear challenge at the person that held her she made eye contact and recoiled.

Without hesitation upon seeing her reaction, they threw her aside.

Not hard enough to injure but with enough force to send her back on to the ground with an audible, “Oomph!”

His blue cape billowing in the wind, Dimitri looked down at Byleth from where he stood.

He had a foot placed up between her legs, the other at her hip. His shoulders rose and fell with short, uneven breaths.

Still dizzy with reactionary arousal to having had an alpha in such close quarters, in such intimacy, she struggled to focus on his face. But when she did.

The air caught in her lungs and held fast.

He whispered something.

Byleth gasped out, “What did you say…? Dimitri?” She sounded so breathless. Nothing except the alpha above her, she couldn’t hear anything else, couldn’t see anything else.

He gazed at her with half-lidded eyes and with every breath the tip of a fang would peer out.

Arousal flared in the glands closest to his feet as he watched her fight the natural reactions of her body, watched her skin begin to overheat, the slick collect in her clothes, and her breaths turn short and quick.

He watched her like he wanted to possess her.

Like he had the right to.

Byleth had never seen him make that kind of expression before, both the novelty of his gaze and the message it sent searing its way up her stomach. She felt like he held her down with just his eyes and heat pooled down between her legs, expelling even more of the slick that brought Dimitri’s shoulders up in a deep breath.

Her hand crept towards her gland in instinct, to cover it or stimulate it Byleth couldn’t figure out which and his eyes slipped down to her neck.

Her own flickered down as well.

And saw the proof of his arousal.

A promise of the things to come, the things he would do to her. The unbelievable, depraved, and dirty things he would like to do to her.

Byleth sucked in a harsh breath as the understanding struck all at once.

How he would fuck her.

In front of everyone.

Bend down and take himself out and slide inside of her. Right then and there. Like an archaic ritual, a claim, to show everyone who she really belonged to and what they would be taking from him if they tried to have her.

These implications, these promises, they all hovered just behind the shallow blue of his eyes like a pool where one could see the bottom.

She floated in that pool, immersed herself in it, sinking down under the water until she might drown. It enveloped her like she would envelop him when he finally took out his cock and had his way with her.

Then Dimitri reached down and Byleth forgot how to breathe.

His fingers came closer and closer until the tips skimmed the space between her breasts, gripped the front of her shirt, and then—

“There you are!”

Dimitri jerked his hand back, alarm and then what seemed to be something akin to self-loathing flickering across his face.

Byleth woke from her daze with a start and she sat up, looking towards the source of the sound.

A distinct, reedy voice belonging to an even reedier looking man dressed in the clothes of an Alliance scholar had stepped into the middle of Lorenz and Marianne’s fight.

Many yards back, jogging towards them with great fervor, Hanneman wheezed and gasped with his robes flying out behind him. The stranger must have outrun him.

Still feeling light-headed, Byleth pushed through the discomfort and brought herself back up to her feet. Glancing towards the prince beside her, she saw the same expression still twisting his face.

Sympathy welled up inside her even though she felt unsure of how to react to what happened between them.

She stepped up close to him, feeling the impossible heat of his skin through his clothes, wondering if anyone had seen the extent of his passion pressing into his trousers not long ago.

“After this, come see me. In my room. We can sit down and talk.”

He could only nod, though he still couldn’t seem to meet her gaze and his expression didn’t change. Her sympathy deepened.

Byleth wanted to slide a hand against his cheek like she had wanted to so many times throughout the day.

Peering past him, she saw Claude speaking to a sheepish Hilda, a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Too many eyes, she thought, though the wetness of her underclothes between her legs almost made such a thought pointless.

Hilda seemed to be fine, nothing worse than a rough tumble.

As if he sensed her eyes on them, Claude glanced up.

He no longer had a smile on, but his eyes shone with intrigue when they made contact. He nodded.

Byleth nodded back, unsure about the extent of the understanding they shared in that gesture but knew it was an understanding nonetheless.

“I have to go,” she whispered to the young man beside her. Her student, her charge.

Her lover.

He nodded again and when he still didn’t say anything, Byleth left his side.

As she neared the crowd of students drawn by the commotion, she heard the unpleasant man say,

“Come here, girl.”

Blue lions and golden deer alike parted to allow her through. They moved in time for Byleth to see the scholar raise a hand and gesture at Marianne.

Like he would a dog.

“Come here.” He said again, lips curled in a humorless smile.

The disrespect in his voice boiled Byleth’s blood.

Marianne stared and stared until recognition flashed in her eyes and she paled. What little light left in her eyes seemed to smother and then hide away. Down, down somewhere deep inside where it languished in the bottomless well that had always existed within the girl. A well Byleth had always tried not to look too far into perish that they both fall in together.

Marianne looked all but deflated. Surrendering. Like she had given up on something, but what Byleth couldn’t be sure.

To her surprise, Lorenz moved before anyone else.

He stepped in front of his classmate blocking her from the man’s view.

“She doesn’t need to answer to someone like you,” he said.

The scholar sized up the young man up before him, eyes traveling from the noble’s cropped, deep purple hair, fanciful clothes, and brilliant red rose.

Then he sneered and opened his mouth to dismiss him, “Why don’t you go ahead, boy, and—”

A forbidding coldness slid into place as the Gloucester heir lived up to the lineage of his name and cut him off.

“She doesn’t answer,” he said again. “To someone like you.” Then smiled.

With all teeth.

And the man faltered.

“I—I—I’ll have you know…”

Lorenz tightened the grip on his lance and, sensing possible violence, Byleth intervened.

Hanneman’s gasping breaths came closer and closer as she did so and soon he stood toe to toe with her before the threatened scholar.

Seeing the two of them, the appearance of some form of control and authority, emboldened the man as he thrust a finger out at the glowering student and said,

“What kind of administration is this? He needs to be disciplined! Treating one of his own people with such disrespect? The gall!”

“Clearly you’ve never heard of the word hypocrisy,” snapped Lorenz and the scholar made to retaliate when Hanneman held up a hand.

“Hold. You have not had permission to engage with the students here and I have been given the false impression that you were interested in the works of our monastery but it appears that this is not the case. My fellow professor can attest to this,” he glanced at Byleth and she met his eye in passing before nodding.

“But I can have you ousted from the grounds on that basis alone.”

Had the scholar put his hands on a student, the closest penalty would have been exile. Injure or threaten the life of one, the punishment became death.

“Speak your piece,” Byleth commanded him. “Tell us why you are here before we throw you out for trespassing.”

Though she refrained from showing teeth like Lorenz, she enjoyed the way the combination of their words made the man squirm.

Nonplussed, he looked around in several different directions as if looking for an opening. To run away or get to Marianne Byleth couldn’t tell but she readied herself nonetheless, prepared for any act this man might pull.

He continued as such until, finally seeing that he had no choice, muttered something under his breath.

“Speak up, knave, we can’t hear you.”

Hanneman shot a sharp look over his shoulder in a bid for the noble to stay silent for Seiros sake before turning back.

“You’re going to have to say that again,” he implored. “You’re speaking too soft—”

“The wandering beast.”

Hanneman fell silent and a soft gasp come from behind them.

The words seemed to have an effect on the scholar as well. His expression broke and he began wringing his hands. “The one who has been killing the people of my village, the one who has been hunting them down like mere prey.”

Hatred and anguish mixed together as the scholar looked back up at them.

“The person responsible for all these deaths.”

His eyes shifted just past Byleth’s shoulder and he raised his finger again to point behind them.

“Is her.”

Then Byleth heard a thud in the grass and she spun around right as several students stepped forward to help.

Marianne had fainted.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

Byleth placed a hesitant hand on the doorway to her own dorm.

The day’s events over and Marianne escorted back to her room with little commotion, the only remaining task lay behind the door before her.

A small smile made its way to Byleth’s face as she remembered _how_ Marianne made it back.

With Dorothea on one arm and Leonie on the other.

The performer had had a large bruise that stood out stark against her pale skin on the broader part of her cheek with the hunter sporting a swollen and torn lip.

Neither had allowed Mercedes to heal them and had borne the injuries with matching stubbornness. That stubbornness must have united them somehow as each had been the first to come forward and lift their incapacitated classmate to her feet.

Byleth paused, hand hovering just above the handle.

Dimitri must have gone in ahead of her because she could sense a presence in the room beyond.

She wondered how he felt seeing the place where everything began, where they had their first encounter with one another as something other than teacher and student.

The beginnings of something exciting, terrible, and new.

It might have been another mistake—Byleth had plenty of those by now on her list—to invite a young, virile alpha into her room during the evening hours while she bore his mark on her skin. All their other meetings had turned into near-dalliances as the temptations of their bond, and yes, Byleth admitted that though Dimitri had not initiated a true bonding bite his mark had set the conditions for one and connected them in a way that amplified the natural effects she already had on him, drove them to come together as they have over and over again.

Her hand continued to stay raised over the knob as a traitorous uncertainty made her consider calling off the meeting altogether. She could knock on the door, whisper into the keyhole that something came up, maybe even leave a note though she had no paper or pen on her person, and then take refuge in Manuela’s room for an hour or two.

But no, Byleth shook her head as if to throw off those thoughts. None of these things would fix the situation, would address the increasingly worrisome way Dimitri seemed to consider her, would crack open the matter to the heart of the issue.

The heart of the issue being Edelgard.

And the death of his entire family.

Byleth had been feeling it for a while now. The agony of the terrible truth he had uncovered, connected as it was to one of the most horrific moments of his life, hung just below even the most intimate moments shared between them.

Byleth had felt it in the frantic way he made love to her, in his possessiveness at her interactions with others, in how quickly he relinquished control to their shared desires.

Like he didn’t want to think.

Just feel.

Byleth made a vow. No matter how strong of a pull she felt to the blonde prince, no matter how much his clear blue eyes pleaded with her, she would do nothing but talk with him tonight. Lay bare the pain that ground at him below the surface.

She felt a glimmer of hope. They could work through this. All they needed was a chance to do so.

Byleth placed her hand on the handle and turned, pushing open the doors.

“Dimitri, I—”

The sight stopped her short.

Then a horrible sense of dread began to trickle down her chest and into her lower belly.

She felt sick.

There, in the center of the room, instead of the familiar blonde hair and blue eyes of her lover, stood the archbishop of Garreg Mach.

And she looked furious.

* * *

The carpet of the second-floor dorms muffled her footsteps once again as door after door of the rooms once filled with students and now emptied rushed past her in a flurry.

Rhea had done the worst thing imaginable.

Byleth clenched her jaw in residual anger at the memory of their conversation not ten minutes ago.

Even now the archbishop might still be standing in the room where she left her, eyes unapologetic and unyielding as they had been when Byleth had demanded to know what she had done to Dimitri. What she had said.

The room had smelled of every possible scent of negativity she could think of; shock and hurt and anger and…

Fear. She had smelled fear.

A low growl born of frustration issued from her throat as her destination neared.

Bonding bites had additional consequences not discussed in the books Hanneman gave her, according to what had been explained.

_One may receive great strength from the mark of a bonding bite._

She could still hear Rhea’s words in her mind even after she had left the archbishop where the had conversation ended, sitting in the single study chair in front of Byleth’s desk.

_As well as the ability to control the other._

“Dimitri.”

She called his name into the keyhole as she knocked on his door. Something stirred in the room beyond.

But the door stayed shut.

“Dimitri, I’m here now. Let me in.”

Byleth tried everything short of working at the handle, knowing the act would only exacerbate the situation.

And the one she sought was now just on the other side.

She could sense him. His warmth.

Byleth knocked once more and when met with silence leaned her head against the wood and closed her eyes.

“Please, say something. Anything. I just want to know you’re okay.”

She couldn’t smell anything from where she stood but his silence troubled her more than anything else.

“Whatever is eating at you, whatever thoughts are inside your head right now, I need you to tell me and let me in so we can work through this and—”

“I can’t.”

The barest whisper came from the keyhole and Byleth thought she might have imagined it out of the growing desperation inside of her.

“What—what do you mean? Dimitri?”

“I can’t, professor,” he repeated but said no more and, after a beat or two, Byleth had to grip at her arms so they wouldn’t thrust out and force open the doors right that instant.

So she could go inside.

So she could see him.

So she could hold him because the pain in his voice when he said those last words grated against her very soul.

“What do you mean ‘can’t’?” she asked as gently as she could as if coaxing a small animal, though she wondered if a lion could ever be considered small. “Please. Tell me why.”

“You know why.”

“I only know what I heard but not from you.”

“Professor, please—”

“Dimitri, I care for you,” and as soon as the words slipped through her lips, Byleth had to fight past the discomfort that immediately arose after speaking them, a wall she never really noticed she had built around that very simple fact. So she said them again.

“I care for you. Very much. And I can’t bear to hear you like this. I can’t. So let me in and we can sit down and talk about this. Together.”

More eloquent than she had ever been before in her twenty years of life, she heard an intake of breath and confidence bloomed that perhaps those words had finally reached his ears until he replied in a strangled tone,

“If I let you in, I might hurt you.”

“Dimitri, you can’t hurt me. I—”

“No, no you don’t understand,” in his fervor to speak the doors rattled as he pressed up against them, reminding Byleth of another time when he had done something similar in this very spot.

“I’ll tie myself to you if you come in. I won’t be able to control myself. But that isn’t what I’m worried about, no.”

She heard him inhale again and heard the shakiness in the breath, the distress.

“You’ll bite me back, professor, I know it. I can see it in the way you’ve looked at me when you think I’m not looking. I could feel it when you let me inside of you. And then you’ll be tied too and then I can just… just give the command—any command, I don’t even know— and you’ll be compelled to do it. And now I won’t know…”

He gasped his next breath and Byleth could almost picture his shoulders shaking as he did so.

She gripped the handle in helpless agony.

“I won’t know after that if anything you do for me is because you want to or if it’s because I told you to do so. I can’t do that to you, professor, I just can’t.”

“Dimitri, please. Just open the door and—”

“I’d take you at the entryway if I did,” he growled.

The sudden admission and change in tone sent thrills running along her back.

“I’d press you into the floor and have you like the monster I am.”

“Dimitri—” His words somehow sent an archaic shiver trembling through her body.

She couldn’t help the soft gasp that followed the end of his name as the tremble ended at the base of her spine. His words made her feel dirty and the fact that anyone could walk out into the hallway at anytime and hear the inappropriate tone of her voice, the suggestive poise of her body, made her shiver again.

She heard him sigh as if in answer to the sound she made.

Then he continued to speak, voice filled with the same carnal energy that had set every muscle in her body on edge, that had her tensed like a dove about to take flight.

“And then I’d put my fangs into you before you could get used to me and then you’ll come on my cock like the last time we did this and I’d have my way with you until I was finished—you would be mindless, professor, you wouldn’t know what was even going on and you would feel compelled to give yourself to me and selfish creature that I am I’d let you.”

He took a shuddering breath.

“I’d let you.”

Then she heard the slightest sound and the world almost pitched out from her sight as Byleth realized what she was hearing.

The wet shifting sounds of skin on skin as he stroked himself up and down his shaft.

He was pleasuring himself.

“I can smell you,” he whispered, low and fervent. “I can smell you through the door. Smelling like you did in the field, ready for me. Willing.”

Byleth felt her knees shaking. She couldn’t speak anymore, her throat thick with her own arousal, and wondered if she would even be able to walk back to her room after this.

“Did you know what I wanted to do to you today? While you lay there before me?”

A whimper almost pushed its way out of her mouth but Byleth pressed a shaky hand to her lips, trapping the desperate sound behind her fingers.

“I think you did,” he whispered. “I think you knew because why else would you have been so ready, so wet—” He choked and the door rattled again.

Then for several seconds all Byleth could hear was his heavy breaths, gasping and steady, as if in a rhythm set by the motions of his own hand as he continued to stroke himself in a madness borne from denying himself what he wanted most. What lay just beyond the door.

When he spoke again, his voice had dropped so low Byleth almost had to press her ear to the keyhole to hear him.

“Tell me you wanted it.”

“Dimitri—” Byleth choked his name as she realized what he said.

“Tell me. Because I think you knew exactly what I wanted to do to you. And _I think it excited you_.”

“D-Dimitri, I—”

“Tell me you wanted me to fuck you in front of everyone in that field. Tell me you wanted my cock inside of you, sliding in as I lifted you up against me.”

“I—” and this time the whimper did make its way out of her throat, a helpless, shaking whine that would have been heard by anyone listening in on the two of them together at the door.

Something about the quality of that sound, about the tone of her voice, must have been enough to drive him over the edge because the next thing Byleth knew Dimitri groaned deep and sudden and then in heavy, irregular breaths he gasped into the door and for many seconds there was only the light rattling of the door and the sound of his ragged breaths as Dimitri came into his hand.

Byleth readjusted her own soaked clothes. She hadn’t come but knew a few more glances across her glands and the pleasure would have burst in a torrent down her legs.

She released the door knob and realized that any harder and she would have warped the material with her grip.

The air stretched.

And then calmed between them.

Then she heard his voice again from the keyhole that would always make Byleth think of sex and sexual matters for the rest of her life.

“Please.” He begged and it reminded her of the first time she heard him sound like that.

A time when both of them still had no idea what to expect, no idea how much things could change.

Innocent.

His next words took her completely by surprise.

“Just go.”

Byleth flinched.

She heard the abrupt finality of his tone. The emptiness in his voice as he had brought sanity back to his mind the only way he knew how and now concluded that there could only be one option from here on out.

She felt like her heart was tearing in two.

And closed her eyes.

Rhea had done more damage in a single day than any of their enemies.

In a wordless movement, Byleth pushed away from the door in respect for Dimitri’s wishes and, trying not to let her emotions turn into resentment for the archbishop, she forced herself to walk away.

After all, Rhea had only done what she thought had been best and wasn’t that what anyone would do in this kind of situation?

Do what was best.

Byleth grit her teeth.

And fought with all her might not to cry.

* * *

The next morning, tired and stiff-eyed, an insistent knocking forced Byleth out of her bed.

She opened the door, knuckles rubbing at her irritated sockets, to the sight of Manuela’s harried face.

And discovered that Marianne had gone missing.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

Byleth could hear someone sobbing as a blurring, raining sky stretched for miles above her.

Fog had once covered that expansive sky, fog in a dense forest that lifted as she had advanced along its path. Beautiful except for the horrid creatures that had lain in wait within the mist between the trees.

Fitting that the last thing she should see would be a featureless, endless eternity, a great expanse that mirrored the divine extent of her soul.

She couldn’t feel the rain on her chest anymore.

Byleth chuckled, a warmth pushing out over her teeth and chin as her life seeped out from an open wound torn from breast to stomach.

Five emaciated bodies surrounded her, one with the sword of the creator in its throat.

“This should be enough…” she managed to whisper even as the blood loss stole away the reason behind those words.

The purpose behind her sacrifice.

Images danced along the edge of her vision, of her mind, an effort from her consciousness to remember how she ended up here on the forest floor, her memories hazy and torrid. Drained by the loss of blood.

She heard a faint, steady beating on the winds.

The images grew stronger and stronger as the beating grew louder and louder and Byleth willed herself to remember.

To remember…

* * *

Lorenz had been the most furious out of anyone else when he learned that he would not be part of the search party, the day the knights of Seiros found a lead on Marianne’s whereabouts.

Crammed into a single room lit by a few candelabras, the combined gathering of two houses took up the bulk of the room, minus a few members from each group, surrounding a large oaken table overlain with a map.

Ashe, Leonie, and Ignatz, some of the best archers in the academy, had been tasked with assisting in a hunt for replenishing the monastery stock.

The shared frustration at the timing of such a mission had been formidable, though their sentiments had done little to affect the outcome.

And…

Byleth had tried to keep the pang from her heart as the next thought entered her mind.

Dimitri, house leader of the blue lions himself, had maintained a curious absence over the past few days following the commotion of Marianne’s disappearance and then suspected kidnapping.

She knew his absence had to do with maintaining a necessary distance since that incident the one night but her emotions had been hard-pressed to view circumstances from that perspective.

Dedue had disappeared along with the prince, though in all likelihood to ensure that his charge took proper care of himself during his absence.

“To hells with the summons, this is the life of a classmate we are talking about here. I’m doing what any noble worth his salt would do!” Lorenz had all but roared.

Quiet and unobtrusive, Claude had pulled him aside and a low murmuring followed before a sullen but silent noble returned to the group.

No matter Lorenz’s feelings on the matter, the summons from his father must have proved too important for Claude to allow him to refuse it.

The golden deer house leader had filled in where Dimitri had left a gap in authority. Ever the opportunist.

The noble placed a finger on the map.

“The empire could be watching the pass so we need to travel in smaller groups. As per guidance from the church, only five of us may depart at any one time for a mission of this scale, without battalions. ”

“Five alone?” Lysithea had been livid at the declaration. “Are you insane, Claude? Did you not hear what Professor Manuela briefed us on Marinane’s location? She was taken to a forest of beasts.”

“I agree, Lizzie, believe me I agree,” for once he seemed to be gazing before him in complete seriousness. “But I also agree that in this case we may need to err on the side of caution as the empire may have an even farther reaching spy network than we can imagine. What will Edelgard think when she receives reports that a sizeable portion of the monastery forces departed for the Leicester Alliance?”

Byleth had proceeded to watch them deliberate as Lysithea argued with him until the logic of Claude’s words brought her to renege on her argument. The other occupants in the room had looked on in silence, their wordless observance a sign of tacit agreement to the final decision as Claude clapped both hands on to the map and asked,

“So. Who will it be? Who’s the lucky five that gets to save Marianne?”

“Aaaactually, we kinda already decided who’s going.”

“Wait, what?”

The room had exploded into an uproar as Lorenz shouted his words in indignation as he glared at the one that caused them and Lysithea threw her hands up in the air.

Sylvain had shrugged as he said, “Yeah, we already figured it out.”

“Then why in the world are we even having this meeting?” The purple-haired noble had begun turning red in the face again.

“To be honest, we thought you already knew,” offered Annette, who then blushed as all eyes in the room turned to her. “But—but then you already had the map open and Professor Byleth didn’t say anything and then you all started discussing everything and so…I thought…”

She trailed off as the embarrassment became too much and fought to find her words again until finally,

“Well, either way, I’m one of the five!” she squeaked.

“Me too!” Sylvain exclaimed before anyone else in the room could speak.

“I as well,” humble Mercedes bowed.

Flabbergasted golden deer stared back at them.

Raphael hiccupped as the proceedings failed to wake him from his nap in a corner of the room. He seemed to have the utmost confidence that everything would be sorted out and Marianne would turn out just fine.

Byleth had smiled with affection at the large young man as the students around her said their piece. It would be times like these that she truly appreciated having come to Garreg Mach.

Only Hilda with her bright, pink eyes, and perhaps Claude who seemed to have suspected as much, looked unsurprised.

“Okay, okay,” Hilda said, putting hands up against the glares that both Lorenz and Lysithea began throwing her way as they noticed her lack of reaction. “So maybe I walked in early to this meeting and asked Professor Byleth if I could go too and she said yes.”

“Gods dammit, then what the heck was the point of us even being here?”

“So that you’ll have no worries, Lorenz.” Ingrid spoke up for the first time since they had gathered. She smiled.

“Because you have some of the strongest fighters at Garreg Mach on the team.”

“You know it!” exclaimed Dorothea as she threw an arm around Ingrid’s shoulders and raised the other in a show of support while letting out a big, “Whooooo-hoo!”

Raphael roared from his corner, startling everyone in the room as the performer’s powerful voice woke him up.

“Whooaaaaaaaaaayyyeeeaaah!”

“Yeaahhhhhhhhhhhh!” Hilda joined in with a leap of joy before throwing her arms around Lysithea.

“You’re all insane! You’re crazy!” the prodigy wailed as she fought off the alpha’s grabbing hands.

Felix, who had yet to say a word the entire meeting, began shaking his head in exasperation until Sylvain’s creeping hand found the top of his head and then the swordsman leapt at him in a bid to throw him into a headlock.

In the ensuing chaos, Sylvain upended the table and the map swallowed Claude whole as he fell underneath it with a yelp, the least dignified Byleth had ever seen him.

Annette dipped under Mercedes’ shawl and proceeded to hide underneath for the remainder of the time.

As Byleth had taken in the sight of the two remaining academy houses throwing all cares to the wind and unwinding together in a single, chaotic affair, the stresses and worries of the past twenty four hours seemed to slip away as the most powerful laugh to have ever left her chest came spilling out of her as Byleth giggled and laughed and gasped with all her might into the air, adding to the blessed chaos.

The hullabaloo had continued well into the night.

* * *

An errant thought trailed the tail end of laughter from a happier time as it faded into the steady patter of water.

Jeralt had passed away in the rain

The air felt humid and hot.

Fever hot, Byleth thought.

Faint battle cries whispered through the tree-line.

She couldn’t tell how far away they were or make sense of who they belonged to, but a deeper part of her mind did and a weak sense of relief passed through her.

Byleth slid under the hood of unconsciousness for an instant.

The world went black.

Until she gasped in a defiant breath.

Lukewarm color returned to her vision but only just and a pounding began in her head even as the rest of her body had gone numb from blood loss.

She winced.

Images began dancing again at the edges, wilder and wilder, reminding her once again that she had to remember.

Had to remember why she sacrificed everything. How.

The beating grew ever louder.

* * *

The first time they stepped into the forest, they had all known something was wrong.

Silent in a way that belied the absence of small creatures and birds, the strangeness of their surroundings had Annette readying her spells in preparation for an abrupt attack while Sylvain shifted his spear into position and Hilda undid the straps of her axe.

Utter silence reigned and beneath the unnatural stillness tendrils of mist seeped between branches and roots like a malingering force.

They would not see their enemies until they came upon them.

The sight had reminded Byleth of a time when, Dimitri at her side, the blue lions had fought off many an attacker while relegated to a human shield surrounding the archbishop, thick forest forcing their line of sight to just beyond the first set of trees.

The creeping mist here seemed to be doing the same.

A sudden, rattling growl gargled out from the tree line and the group turned towards the sound in shared alarm.

Byleth could see the contours of an enormous creature just past the branches.

Slow and deliberate, she unsheathed the lethal blade of the creator sword and held it at eye level in line with the beast.

No sign of Marianne, but their first opponent had just greeted them.

Byleth had spread the team into a tight, but effective formation. As long as they advanced a few steps at a time, they could make a gradual but sure way through the unknown terrain and the monster before them would be the first of their successes.

Would have been.

Until the clearest voice in a fog-filled battlescape cried out to them from several hundred meters away.

“Professor, there’s more!”

Marianne had screamed out a warning in the loudest voice she had ever used since Byleth had known her and it was the only warning they had.

Before the rest of the beasts descended on them.

“The side, Sylvain! They’re flanking us!” Hilda shouted as blood streamed from several tears along her clothing and she hacked into the near-impenetrable hide of a seismic flat-faced and spiked beast.

The body of the first one that attacked them had lain ruined and shrunken in the grass a few feet back, a murderous warning against the others of their fate should they attack.

But the beasts seemed to know no fear, mindless and raging as Hilda with muscles imbued in the power surge of Byleth’s ability snapped several spikes in half.

But the hide remained unbroken.

“Hey hey don’t rush me like that, Hilda. I’m an at-your-own-pace kind of guy.” Sylvain spoke with his usual playfulness though his voice sounded at odds with the ferocious quality of his gaze as he leapt forward and struck at the monster that had broken through the tree-line to attack their side.

Even with the brutality of his lance strike, the weapon came away more damaged than its target and Sylvain clenched his jaw at the sight of it.

Her students were strong.

Annette cast ravaging wind-infused magic at the creature Sylvain had struck without hesitation.

But the monsters were stronger.

The creature roared.

Hilda screamed in pain as she clapped a protective hand against her ear and Sylvain doubled over, the lance falling from his hands as they flew up covering his ears as well.

Mercedes flinched at the power of the roar but reached out in bravery and healed the pair fast enough for Hilda to recover and bury the axe in the center of the flat-faced monster’s head.

It screeched in agony wrenching its head back and tore the axe out of Hilda’s already weakened grasp.

The weapon went flying into the woodline behind it with a crash.

Hilda cursed just as Byleth saw further movement come from where it landed and whipped out with the creator sword, the blade elongating and twisting into the fog to make contact with another creature as it howled in rage at the devastating sting of her attack.

Three monsters against three front-line fighters, they would need to hold the line or else large and terrible claws would find their way to the mages healing and fighting from behind.

All the while, Marianne could be very well be fighting for her life, isolated in a part of the forest none of them could see.

“Professor!”

Byleth had whipped towards the sound, her eyes wide and searching in the fog only to be in vain as the voice sounded much closer than before but gave no visible sign of Marianne’s presence.

“Marianne!” She yelled back.

“He’s gone mad!”

“Who?” Sylvain called out. “Who’s gone mad?”

“The wandering beast. I need—oof!” They all heard a low thud and then the shudder of a single tree as something of great strength had thrown Marianne against it like a rag doll.

Then an entire copse of trees shook in the vicinity of her fall.

“Due west almost two hundred meters!” yelled Annette.

Hilda drew a dagger from her belt and though the weapon would be useless against such overwhelming odds she would rather something in her hands than not.

“But we can’t, these monsters—”

“Gods, she could be dying for all we know, Hilda, you can’t be serious.” Sylvain said as he swung his lance in a sweeping motion as a distraction.

“There’s too many of them here! If we don’t hold them off, they’ll kill Annette and Mercedes.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” Annette said with a glance at Mercedes who nodded in solemnness but the shaking of her voice had given her away as she put up a brave front.

She braced her legs and stood as tall as her small stature would allow. Annette was scared, but she had made her decision.

To be prepared to sacrifice herself.

And so had Mercedes.

Byleth watched these mages come to the decision in the span of a few seconds.

These two who had become the fastest of friends during their time together at Garreg Mach, these diligent, intuitive students who walked their way into Byleth’s life when she became their professor, these sympathetic omegas who took her in as one of their own despite their difference in status and age.

These young women who, given the time, would have become her friends as well, forming a bond that could one day be unshakeable.

And a great sense of injustice bloomed in her chest.

If anyone should put their lives on the line for anyone else, it would not be these two young women entering the prime of their lives. An entire lifetime ahead of them.

So Byleth came to a decision of her own.

A decision made easier and faster than if their party had been larger. Than if a certain blue prince had been present.

The decision had come very easy and very fast, much faster than Byleth would ever admit to the one she had come to care for so very much.

Although her next few actions might ensure that there might never be that unshakeable bond for her in the future, Byleth would be preserving the friendship of two young women that would stay intact forever. 

She leaned over and whispered into Sylvain’s ear, passing on the plan that had been brewing in the back of her mind since the monsters had appeared and the young man froze.

Then he turned, looking over his shoulder to meet her gaze. As he looked, his eyes hardened.

And gave a single, terse nod.

Byleth clenched the hilt of her weapon, dipping towards the earth below, and before the omegas on either side of her could reach out to stop her, she leapt into the air over the students and landed in between all three of the wild beasts.

She pulled back the creator sword and gave one last command,

“Sylvain, NOW!”

The young man blew a shrill whistle through his fingers and a pure black horse came bursting out of the trees.

He threw Annette and Mercedes over the back of it as he grabbed Hilda by the collar to drag her with him and as the two mages cried out in discomfort and surprise, neither having had much use with horses, slapped the animal’s rear to send it galloping out of reach.

Before the monsters could react, Byleth roared out a battle cry, threw her weight into the creator sword with all her might, fingers never once loosening on the hilt, and loosed the winding, twisting, savagery of a thousand cuts and blows on every monster around her.

Another roar came from a different direction.

As a fourth monster joined the fray, flayed by a stray tip of her onslaught, energy surged through her body, her arms and hands.

She wasn’t afraid.

The frenzy of her attacks reduced, slowed, then stopped, and Byleth fell into her preferred defensive stance as she waited for whichever creature crept forward first.

She wasn’t afraid of any of them.

Her lips lifted into a savage smile.

Because she had picked today to die.

* * *

The glint of the creator sword lodged into the throat-torn skin of the last dead monster came into focus.

Rain trickled sideways down her cheeks, along her throat, as Byleth gazed listless at the creature that had gifted her the traumatic wound right before the relic pierced its throat.

Blackness now crept along her vision, promising the darkness of sleep.

The fifth monster had been the tipping point.

Her chest rose and fell in unsteady breaths.

Had it not appeared perhaps she might have survived.

Then Byleth’s chest stopped moving.

Sleep seemed wonderful.

As darkness began covering what little vision she had left...

Something stuttered within her like a flame struggling with a last sputter before water put it out.

A bitter regret.

She could have held him one more time.

A terrible, bitter regret. 

Visited him every morning or night instead of leaving him alone day after day even up until the end when the time came to depart.

She would have wanted to hold him one more time.

_Dimitri…_

Byleth sucked in, the sudden desire to live surging through her body, but the air refused to pass through, coming in and stopping before it could go past her throat. Too weak.

_I…_

Her hands flexed and shook as they pulled at her chest, at the ruined shirt.

Beating, the beating sounded louder now louder than ever.

She wanted to see him…

A burning ignited in her chest, in her throat, as Byleth began to suffocate.

One last time.

Her eyes squeezed shut and even though her teeth must have pressed down hard enough to break the skin on her lip she could only feel the wetness of her tears as they left warm trails down her cheek.

_Dimitri, I lo—_

Then the sky turned dark.

Something had come in from above.

Byleth’s air-starved mind tried to make sense of the massive figure as it blocked out the sky.

Wings, they were wings.

The creature alighted on the forest floor.

A wyvern, Byleth realized, common earth brown.

Smaller, like a youngling.

Boots thudded into the grass and then—

Her head held aloft in surprising tenderness.

She couldn’t focus on his face but the color of his eyes gave him away and she tried to smile even as her mind fell apart.

Perhaps her mind had finally broken and everything she saw now was a dream, but right then Byleth couldn't care less. 

The darkness encroached.

She felt lips touch her forehead followed by the barest whisper as she managed to make out the words,

“—give me.”

The alpha holding her bent down to move past her cheek.

Her sight almost black.

Rain mixed with the tears on her skin as the last of the light faded.

And she began to sink.

Deep, deep below. Where everything she knew and would come to know lay in an empty, dreamless, dark, where she would drift and float and glide until settling to the bottom in a final sleep and—

A sudden prick.

Shock erupted in her mind as ivory bone pierced through the bottom of her neck.

Sharp, yet painless.

Aching yet wonderful.

Warmth seeped in. Then spread. And spread.

And _spread_. Until it began to pour and flow and roar like a rapid stream and filled her up more than anything beyond her wildest imagination like someone overflowing a cup, a cup bursting with her soul, overflowing the rim but somehow still holding together. Growing, _expanding_, giving her room for greater potential than ever before.

Then a great stretching as the flowing force reached its stopping point, stretching, thinning, elongating, until…

_Connection_.

Byleth opened her eyes to a blinding white light coming from in front of her, from below. From the tears in her chest, she realized in wordless awe.

Knitting flesh and replenishing strength as if the wound had never existed, she held still as sympathetic magic from the life-changing act of the young man in her arms healed her until...

Until…

Byleth gasped in precious air as the last of her injuries vanished away and teeth unlatched from her neck as a bloody-mouthed prince leaned back to meet her gaze.

She sat up, leaves falling from the extended press of her back into the woodland floor as Byleth gazed into the sharp yet dilated eyes of Dimitri.

Her savior.

Her prince.

And now her promised mate.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

All her life she had sensed that something was wrong with her.

It was a suspicion that began in childhood when her knees and palms bled from tripping in the dirt and despite the sting of the cuts she would feel no desire to sob or cry or when the children of a village Byleth could no longer recall the name of— their eyes, they struggled to meet her eyes—began avoiding her because she didn’t understand what it meant to go out and play like everyone else.

And it continued when seasoned men and women shook in fear at overwhelming odds or wild beasts while the silent form of a single mercenary faced down the enemies before her with eyes devoid of everything but an unfettered focus.

Something had been wrong and Byleth knew it deep down inside even if she had never voiced those thoughts aloud to her father or anyone else. That sense of wrongness that was ever present inside her, that lurked beneath every interaction, behind every conversation. The wrongness that was, that persisted, until her father’s death. Until her presentation.

Until now.

Byleth touched a shaky hand to the side of Dimitri’s mouth as the last of her wounds healed.

Her breath held fast in her throat, the thrumming of the bond tying them together receding to a low persistent hum lingering under the skin. She could feel him. The temperature of his lower cheek beneath her fingers, his hot breath.

Not only that but also… _him_. She could feel him almost as if he were an extension of herself. Sensed him as she would sense her own existence. Just as the books described, he had become a part of her as if melded to her soul.

Her fingers trembled at the thought smearing some of the blood still covering his lips as he let her touch him, a gentle pulse under his lip beating in time to the humming within.

Dimitri placed a hand over hers, pressing her fingers harder against him as he said, “I thought I lost you.”

He whispered into their joined hands, his voice cracking at the end. “I thought I was too late.”

The swell of an emotion Byleth had only dared utter in the throes of death bloomed in her breast. But with her consciousness restored and her reasoning intact, a second less forgiving feeling curled around that beating thing inside her chest.

“I…” Loved him? Missed him? Her heart twisted.

With guilt.

Guilt at the idea that the prince of a kingdom had sacrificed a part of himself to save her life with a finality that no person his age should have to undergo even though the world had forced him to endure as such over and over time and again. And here she was about to enmesh him further in the confusing emotions of a woman such as her, one with a heart that had only just learned how to feel. How to hurt. And not quite how to forgive.

Byleth pulled her hand just a fraction of a hair away from his face.

That must have given her away or he could sense the mess of deliberations racing through her mind, caught on to them. Or even, if it were possible, have _felt_ them because a choked, “_Don’t_,” came from his throat as he trapped her hand in a near painful grip.

Like she might run away if he let go. Like she might disappear.

“Everything changed when I found you dying at my feet.” He looked at her long and unblinking. Drawn.

As drawn as she had ever seen, details she had missed before in the aftermath of their bonding beginning to trickle in. His eyes sunken, tinged with light bloodshot, the unhealthy pallor of his skin. The sleepless nights had exacted their price. Or was that the only reason?

Another passage from Hanneman’s books flitted through her mind’s eye but Byleth lost the thought before it could take hold. It was about something important. Something vital.

But further inspection of his well-being was put on hold when he placed his forehead against the palm of her hand.

“I know what the bond means, professor. I know you’re not happy with how it happened. But I beg of you… please…” Both his hands now gripped hers tight. “Don’t say that you wish I hadn’t saved you or anything of the like. Don’t say that you wish I hadn’t found you or left you to save the others. It doesn’t matter what I said or thought before. None of it matters anymore. The moment I saw you there on the forest floor bleeding out before me…fading,” he faltered at the word.

He brought her hand back towards him, pressing the fingers into him again just above the chin. “The answer became clear.”

Her heart flipped in a storm of embattled emotions at his sincerity. But guilt won out as the words broke out of her. “But what about your future?” she cried. “What about the future of Faerghas?”

A future taken from its prospective king.

He smiled and Byleth saw, as she had already seen so many times before, an unshakeable belief in his expression. The conviction of his thoughts.

He drew her closer, guiding her forward, until his breath tickled her nose and he said, “You are my future, professor.”

Here he looked at her with such care that she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. The world blurred at the edges and Byleth realized she had been holding her breath for far too long but her body still didn’t want to breathe.

“It took almost losing you for me to realize this. You are the future for me. For the blue lions. For all of Fodlan. And the significance of your life made it easy for me to make the decision.”

Then he pulled again at her hand and Byleth found herself leaning in, breath mingling with his, and—

“Ehem… eh-ehem…” Then she heard an awkward coughing.

Byleth rocked back in utter shock. Tearing her eyes away from her wonderful prince she peered over his shoulder at the second rider that had been sitting atop the wyvern the entire time.

On a saddle that appeared to have been thrown on in haste with several clasps still undone and sagging as if it belonging to a much bigger mount, the golden deer house leader sat waiting with coy patience for them to be done with their business. Though it must have become too much for even one such as him owing to the embarrassment dusting his bronze cheeks.

She glanced back at Dimitri, looking for a cue of some kind that he had something, anything to say but she was only greeted with closed eyes and a wrinkled brow. All the signs of a prince brimming with annoyance at an interruption.

By the time she looked back, shame had burned itself deeply into both cheeks at the prospect of having almost kissed a student in front of another— though at this point she wasn’t sure what was worse, almost kissing or a student bonding to their teacher forever— mixed with a healthy dose of horror.

“Claude?” She asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I flew here,” he replied. “Obviously.” He gave a cheeky grin.

Byleth searched his face for any sign of disgust or shock, but there was none.

Dimitri caught her eye this time with a reassuring smile. He must have given him some warning beforehand.

The thought calmed her nerves and a sense of curiosity replaced it. “I never knew you learned how to fly wyverns,” she said.

“I didn’t!” The young man replied with cheeriness. “In fact, I wasn’t even sure we’d make it but we did. So the cavalry has arrived!”

Dimitri covered his brow with one hand as he groaned. “What he means is that we almost died three times on the way here.”

The banter between them warmed her, bringing on a smile. “Did you bring any more reinforcements?”

“Felix, Ashe, and Dedue are on their way.” Dimitri murmured. He met her smile with another of his own. It didn’t quite reach his eyes but Byleth could tell it owed more to exhaustion than anything else.

“Whatever happened to erring on the side of caution?” She teased the noble astride the young wyvern.

“Yes, yes, let’s just say we sent five out at a time like the church told us to.”

“Right…” She lifted an eyebrow at him.

“Not that you’re a big rule follower yourself, teach, like I saw about—let’s say—a minute ago.” He laughed when she blushed again. “Anyway, last we saw Hilda and the others were holding their own rather well. It seems you defeated the majority of the beasts.”

Byleth nodded in relief. “Good. And Marianne?”

“Marianne…” Claude sobered at her name. “Is still separated from the group. She’s close by. Alone except for a monster, bigger than the rest. It’s ignoring her for now but…” His eyes narrowed.

“There’s no guarantee it’ll stay that way.” Then, as if spurred on by that thought, he patted the wyvern. After perhaps a beat too long, it crouched down in preparation for flight. “That being said, be careful both of you.” He winked. “I’ll be back with reinforcements.”

Before either of them could say another word both rider and mount twisted into the air with a blast of wind that almost sent the tatters of Byleth’s cape flying.

Byleth looked back towards her mate, the word strange to even think, once the winds died down and said,

“Dimi—mph!” Only for him to catch her in a kiss and then in the biggest, tightest hug she had yet to receive from him.

The sudden feeling of him against her, his warmth and his smell and the firm silhouette of his body all around was almost too much after having had none of these things for so long. She found herself hugging him back with equal ferocity. Her hands trailed far up along either side of his spine, but not so far that she had to go to her toes, pressing him againt her as hard as he was pressing her into him.

He broke the kiss not to pull away but to dip his head back down to the pocket of her neck. Air traveled along the still sensitive skin and into his chest, expanding against her and Byleth reveled in the substantial feel of him. That despite his fatigue though he was still handsome underneath it all he could still feel so… _alive_ in her arms.

And, after what felt like a long time and yet no time at all, their breaths and heartbeats seemed to fall into sync and beat in tandem to the thrumming of the bond that continued to tether Dimitri to her soul and somehow the meeting of their lips felt right. More right than anything else she had shared with him.

“Until now…”

The sound of her voice startled him and he pulled away just as a noise of disapproval left her throat, causing him to laugh and say, “I’m sorry, professor,” He leaned against her forehead. “But we have to go.”

Byleth closed her eyes as she felt a pang, not of guilt this time but of sudden concern and worry for her students. She had forgotten the situation in its entirety. For however long. And she disparaged herself for it regardless of the circumstances.

By then she could only lean against him, unable to keep the reluctance from her heart, as she said, “Of course.” Then touched her lips to his one last time, catching his soft gasp of surprise at the unexpected kiss. The bond pulsed with a deep comfort.

“I’ll be right beside you.”

Annette ran to her first, tears already forming, as she spread her arms for an embrace.

“Professor!” She cried. “You’re alive- oh!” Only to jump back in alarm when her hand scraped the fresh wound on her upper back and Byleth winced.

“Dimitri what are you doing he- ah!” Mercedes clasped both hands to her mouth as the truth of the bond made itself known in Byleth’s scent.

Sylvain stood beneath a leafy canopy, face transformed, and hesitant to join the sudden but hopeful reunion. A beast lay just behind him in the shade, riddled with the aftermath of his frenzy, its gore still dripping from his armor. His lance protruded from the back of another convulsing in the grass beside Hilda who, with a swing of her axe, ended the creature’s life for good.

As she turned to face the group and Sylvain began making his way over, the reaction of their classmates had both of them narrowing their eyes.

Still roused by what must have been a near descent into blood wrath as Byleth’s nose tingled at his approach, Sylvain began with a growl, “What’s wrong—” Then froze as he too figured out the truth.

“No way,” murmured Hilda, her eyes widening. “Nooo way…”

“Dimitri did it to save my life.” Byleth said, straight to the point. She wished Dimitri would say something, but she could sense his embarrassment even from where she stood. He had been hesitant to enter the clearing where his classmates, all of them capable of discovering the truth by instinct alone, stood awaiting them. For all his earlier conviction, it seemed even the bravest of men could falter in the face of judgement from his peers. Especially those he held close to his heart.

“So does that mean you also…” said Mercedes in hushed tones, but then her eyes glanced to Dimitri and she trailed off.

Byleth turned just in time to see him look aside. He had signaled to Mercedes and now couldn’t meet her gaze. She would need to ask him about it later. “He did it to save me,” she said again, though the words still did little to assuage the expressions on her students’ faces, which brought a concern to mind.

If the very people that knew and accepted her relationship with Dimitri prior to the bond reacted like this… Byleth had to fight off a shudder. A permanent connection of such significance, between a student and teacher no less, such a truth could not be hidden from the church for long.

“But we don’t have much time,” she continued. “Marianne is in danger as we speak. I know you all have more questions or more to say, but that needs to wait until we are all back safe at the monastery.”

Dimitri stepped forward and all eyes shifted to him. “The reinforcements Claude and I brought may have drawn undue attention.” He spoke for the first time since entering the clearing. “We need to move. Fast.”

A drawn-out silence followed his words as his classmates struggled to come to terms with the significance of the new scent that all of them recognized yet none of them had any real experience with. She imagined that what Dimitri had done would horrify even the most ostracized noble.

Until Annette burst out with determination and a stroke of open-mindedness that Byleth had learned to be grateful for, “Then what are we waiting for? Her voice seemed to rouse the group, breaking the strange mood that had fallen over everyone.

Sylvain no longer looked pensive, Hilda shook out of her reverie, and the softest sigh of relief came from the prince beside her.

“Let’s go get our friend back!”

An ancient, twisted, and colossal creature, the final beast didn’t so much reveal itself as it loomed over more than half the clearing. A great rumbling growl that began in its belly thundered out through its jaws.

Though the students to her left and right stood as brave as they could in the face of such terror, she couldn’t fault them for flinching.

Far larger than the creature Sylvain’s brother, Miklan, had transformed into, it swung its head from side to side. As if studying them. Far more intelligent, Byleth added in her thoughts. As if it had a greater access to its consciousness than Miklan had had.

Sylvain must have come to the same conclusion as his expression twisted in hurt before he could school it back into a cool expression.

Then the beast lowered its head with all the appearance of preparing for a charge and faces transformed, hands readied weapons, and Byleth tapped into her divinity, expecting the creature to barrel headlong at the intruders of its domain. Further back, just visible over the grass, lay Marianne, the only sign of life the minute rise and fall of her back.

Then the unexpected happened.

Inhuman yet comprehensible, the voice seemed to fill every corner of the clearing with the strength of its timbre.

“You are all younger than I expected.” A low rumble shuddered through their chests.

The creature could speak.

“What… in the world…?” The visible stiffening of her bones sent a visible shiver along Hilda’s body as she regarded the beast. A spike in shock and fear filled the air and Byleth wondered if the creature could smell it.

“She spoke very highly of you all.”

He probably could.

“Miklan couldn’t speak when he transformed so how can this one?” Sylvain hissed, his fingers biting into the wood of his lance, asking the questions they all wanted an answer to. He paused as if struggling for the right words to say. Only to ask the same thing. “Why couldn’t he speak to us like he can?”

The creature turned its head in a dismissing gesture.

“I will make your death quick.” Despite having a face born of nightmares the creature still managed to exude a sense of humanity. “Or… are you strong enough to kill me?”

Strength poured into her. Byleth snapped her head to Dimitri in barely contained shock once she realized its origin. He held her imploring gaze and gave the most imperceptible of nods. An instinct rose inside as he did so, soon followed by confidence.

“More than strong enough.” A challenge so great she turned back to the monster to bare her fangs in that base instinct fueling her very being. “You will not terrorize Marianne nor the villagers any longer.”

She raised the creator sword, the blade gleaming as if revealing its thirst for blood. For violence. “And you will let my student go.”

Then, before the creature could take a single step, she flung loose the many prongs of the sword in a brutal swing as it unwound longer and longer and longer, whipping and lashing forward to strike at the armored plating of the beast.

And shattered the first layer of its protective spines.

By the time the battle neared its end, a halo of metal, wood, and stained plating littered the forest floor and, despite the surrounding destruction, almost none of it had touched Marianne.

Stripped of its protective layers, the ancient beast heaved and bled from multiple wounds along its body.

Hilda’s hands shook as she recovered from the violent shattering of her second weapon against the hide of the terrible beast as Sylvain threw his broken lance several feet back into the grass. One of Annette’s palms and both of Mercedes’ had angry red welts from overuse of magic.

All of them bore small, bleeding cuts, a consequence of flying splinters.

“Just one last strike. And it’s over.” Dimitri growled, his own lance cracked in several places but he withheld a killing blow as Hilda’s shattered axe had proven that mortal weapons could only weaken the beast but not kill it.

As Byleth nodded and sank down into her stance, the creature released a sudden, terrible roar that blew out the ears of all those in range, but she didn’t flinch. Even as blood trickled down her lobe.

Magic, innate and foreign, healed the damage in an instant.

But before she had time to process the meaning behind such magic, before she could even swing her sword, the bleeding mass before them flung itself around, snatched Marianne up into its jaws, and surged into the foliage whipping out of sight.

Byleth broke into a dead sprint and she felt rather than saw Dimitri explode into action beside her.

Right as they closed in on the break in the tree-line several crashes came from both sides followed by what sounded like a grunt of pain and a shout but before either of them could come to a halt they heard Sylvain's voice cry out.

“We got it from here, you two go after Marianne!”

“Dimitri.” Torn, Byleth began to turn her head and slowed until he grabbed her wrist and it forced her to keep at his pace.

“Leave them. Dedue and the others should be right behind whatever came into the clearing just now.”

Byleth nodded and, without another word, swept into the depths of the forest as they followed the creature to its final destination.

Marianne had awoken by the time they came upon her.

Despite her torn uniform with darker stains from lacerations along both arms and legs, she seemed fine, having used her latent magic to heal the worst of her injuries as they happened.

They looked to be in the creature’s den.

Scattered between Marianne’s hands and around her partially prone form as she had pushed herself up lay bones of every kind, some recognizably human. Others lay crushed beneath the monstrosity that struggled to maintain its balance as well as its sanity.

“Kill me…” the monster rumbled, the keen red of its eyes reduced to a dampened hue and then it growled again, “Kill… me…” and this time its entire body convulsed, clamping its jaws shut and seconds passed before it could slide them open again to whisper, “Before I... kill her.”

“Do it, professor. End it. Before he loses control again.” The prince beside her stood tense and coiled, his fury infusing the air as Byleth faced the creature standing so close to Marianne.

Perhaps Dimitri blamed it for everything despite the pitiful figure it cut as it lingered on the border between life and death. A being that could not die save for a strike from a relic perhaps as age-old as itself.

Her hand tightened around the hilt of her bare sword, unsheathed as soon as the creature had come into sight, and raised her arm to make the final blow when another voice spoke.

“Y-you didn’t mean to hurt those villagers did you?”

Everyone’s attentions turned to the girl, the one whose voice Byleth had only ever heard a few times. She pushed herself to her feet, the physical act of doing so seemed to embolden her as a resoluteness lit up her features, lifting her gaze to meet that of the creature many heads taller than her to ask—no, _demand_.

“You didn’t mean to. Did you?”

“I…”

It gazed back at her, that single uttered word hanging in its jaws as it appeared to be considering her, perhaps even acknowledging her as a whole, for the first time. The air seemed to tighten and for a moment it was as if they had been forgotten, herself and Dimitri, as if they had become mere witnesses to something very personal. Private.

The awareness behind the creature’s eyes, attentive and pondering. It was an expression that could have only belonged to a sentient being and she couldn’t stop a thought from passing through her head.

Perhaps they had been too hasty before, the hectic nature of the incident having affected their judgment. Perhaps they could have approached things differently and Miklan could have been sa—

Spasming again the creature reared its head back with a roar mottled jaws yawning wide—“No!” Byleth heard Marianne’s voice as if from a distance—eyes boiled red and pitching forward with a single-minded ferocity for the kill—

The creator sword found its mark.

Marianne screamed just as Byleth leaped forward, stole the distance in a single breath faster than she should have been capable of, grabbed the hilt and shredded the flesh along the creature’s shoulder and neck in a blood-laden arc, soaking her clothes her face and the remains of Marianne’s dress.

Wiping away the blood from her cheeks, Byleth found herself repeating, “It’s over, it’s over…” like a mantra and sheathed her blade. “Marianne, it’s over.” Taking one step at a time, she made her way to the sobbing girl and, kneeling down, pulled her student in for an embrace that neither of them could have imagined sharing even just a few days before.

For some reason Byleth felt raw inside after delivering the finishing blow. Like she had destroyed something precious even though the monster had lost its mind in the end.

As Marianne leaned into her shoulder, she heard the smallest, “Oh!” as the crest-bearer recognized the scent embedded in her skin.

“Yeah..” was all she could say in reply and Marianne nodded as if she understood, though Byleth had the feeling it was more because she didn’t have the energy to do anything else.

“Can you stand?” She asked.

“Yes I… I think so,” came the shaky reply.

“Ok good, just hold on to me and then—”

Marianne squealed with surprise.

The enormous corpse beside them disintegrated into a cloud of black dust and an errant gust of wind blew it all away in an instant.

She looked down expecting to see the dried bones that the numerous other creatures had left behind only to do a double-take when the dust cleared and an altogether different sight met her eyes instead.

Armor filigreed with a style from a by-gone era, a blue-haired man— the exact bird blue of the messy coil on Marianne’s head— lay face down in the grass. His arm splayed out beside him clutching a blade made with a material that greatly resembled that of the creator sword, one that gave the observer a sense of primeval origins.

And he was still breathing.

Ragged and unsteady, the slow rise and fall of his back showed the man’s tenuous grip on life.

Then came the sound of heavy muffled steps, those of Dimitri, and Marianne shifted in her arms to turn towards him only to be greeted by the tip of a lance positioned so that the point would pierce his heart.

“W-wait.”

Despite looking both frightened and shaken Marianne held out her hand and Byleth noticed for the first time the familiar angry red on the palm, the implications of which flitted through her mind.

Then a groan came from below and everyone tensed as the man roused. There was the distinct clink of shifting metal plating and then he rolled to his back away from his wound. The sight shocked her once again.

No more than a few years apart from Mercedes, far younger than any of them expected with serious but elegant features. Rougher than the typical nobleman’s countenance, lined beneath the eyes. In another time, Byleth might have found him handsome.

“Let me do it.” Marianne's voice, soft as ever yet clear. Her hand trembled, but when Byleth watched her expression for uncertainty, hesitation, she saw nothing that required her to intervene. Her student's burnt palm came into view again but she ignored it with only the slightest of trepidations.

“I want to be alone for this,” she whispered. Then she gestured towards Byleth’s waist. “Professor, please…”

Byleth unsheathed the dagger and handed it to her without a word then gazed up at Dimitri. He watched his classmate as she had and relief filled her when, satisfied at what he saw, he nodded.

“Then let’s go,” Byleth stood. Then moved close enough to brush against his elbow. “We need to make sure Felix and the others made it in time.”

He resisted at first, arm stiff, but another gentle tug from her released some of the tension from his shoulders as he turned into her touch with a soft sigh. Then he brought his head down in passing and his nose and lips ghosted over the healing skin of her neck.

The gesture sent an involuntary shiver down her back as she felt the press of her fangs once more against her lip and the desire to kiss him grew so strong she reached down to hold his hand while lengthening her strides to bring them a little faster out of sight.

It wasn’t long before the edge of the forest received them once more and Byleth entered them with gratefulness but not before taking one last look behind her. As she turned, she caught Dimitri’s serious gaze—the bond wavering— before latching on to Marianne who now hovered over the man at her knees, their gazes interlocking in the same manner as before. The knife lay beside his head, but in a way that seemed almost forgotten.

She wondered what sort of understanding they were coming to now, if any. Whatever decision Marianne came to at the end… she hoped the girl knew what she was doing. But then again, Byleth thought, her brow furrowing as she turned back to the woodline.

That same question applied to her too.

They walked with some urgency but not a breakneck pace like before.

Their connection quivered like the vibration of a tight string echoing and off, followed this time by a confusing silence. Neither intimacy nor antagonism yet both all at once. Dimitri had something on his mind, something that seemed to be disturbing him a great deal.

She heard an intake of breath and braced herself for came next.

“I meant what I said.”

“About what?” She asked, trying to guess where this would lead.

“About you.” He squeezed her hand. ”Being the future.”

Warmth suffused her chest at the familiar wording, but the quivering continued and he still hadn’t relaxed his grip. She must have missed a cue somewhere and after they had already walked for some time she glanced his way to see…

The sight wrapped a weight around her heart. And pressed down.

“So next time,” Marred by dark intent, Dimitri gazed ahead. His eyes. They had turned cold and flat. “I’ll kill whoever hurts you with my bare hands.”

But that wasn’t what alarmed her.

“I’ll tear them apart.”

What scared her more than anything else was the cruelty in his expression, the familiarity of it. Brought back in the memories of Ailell’s overwhelming heat. In the memories of the suppressive, heavy atmosphere of the holy tomb.

“Like you did those soldiers?” The words slipped out of her of their own accord before Byleth could take them back and— of course she would go ahead and put her foot in her mouth at a time like—

Before she knew what was happening she was swung around with a tight pressure around each of her upper arms and pressed up against a tree where she could feel the bark through her clothes but not enough to scrape.

She wasn’t in any pain but the bond turned jagged and uncomfortable as she gazed up and found Dimitri glaring at her with an anger at odds with the coldness that still colored his gaze.

“They were the enemy, professor.” He spoke in a uniform voice and if Byleth didn’t know better she would have thought him wholly convicted except his eyes lost its edge for a second, just a second, but that was all she needed to know that he didn’t fully believe what he was saying. “If I hadn’t killed them, they would have killed us. And you know it.”

“How an enemy is killed matters too.” She replied, wondering if he could tell how much her heart was pounding. She had seen such horrifying things in her lifetime, but she supposed that nothing could compare to seeing a person she loved acting like someone she hardly recognized at all. 

Her answer only seemed to agitate him further and the growing distress in the bond made her wince.

He must have noticed because the hold he had on her arms loosened ever so slightly, but he didn’t change his approach as he whispered, “I thought you understood,” his scent rose in the space between them complex and thick. “I thought that you of all people would understand that in this world sometimes we have to kill to survive. You taught me that.”

“Then I taught you wrong.”

Unnerved though she was that didn’t stop her from leaning in. Taking him to task. “We do sometimes kill to survive. I did teach you that. But the ends do not always justify the means.”

“Then what about the means with which Edelgard murdered my family, professor?” He whispered and Byleth glimpsed for the first time a little further into the abyss that had been festering in his heart. “What about them?”

And yet a flare of hope alighted in her chest and, though she would have preferred better circumstances, they were talking. _Finally_. About the very thing she had been meaning to address since it all began. Empathy blossomed in her heart as she looked up at her lover, her partner, her mate, everything that she was still so hesitant to call him he had become. Physically more than anything else but here... here was the chance for it to come a little closer to the real thing.

“Will you give me the chance to teach you?”

That she answered with a question took him aback and he seemed to be searching her face for answers to a question of his own that existed nowhere but inside his head as he considered both her and her offering.

Meanwhile the bond smoothed over in waves and his hands slackened to where she could pull away if she wanted to but Byleth remained where she was, waiting. Waiting for his answer as she kept her eyes fastened to that beautiful blue of his.

Waiting.

Then Dimitri gave a quiet sigh as he released her arms to slide his own around her waist and dipped his head into the position that was fast becoming a favorite of his. He breathed against the proof of their bond and said, “I can never win with you, professor.”

Byleth pressed her nose against him in return as she replied, “It’s not about winning, Dimitri.”

“Then what is it about?” He asked, his voice taking on a more relaxed, even playful tone, not really expecting any sort of answer.

But then she surprised him one last time when she pulled back, laid gentle hands along his face and cheek, and guided him back to where he could see her face.

“I don’t know yet, but we can find out together." 

Dimitri leaned in to kiss her but she stopped him. At his indignant look, she gave a wry laugh.

"That and I definitely need a bath."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My. God. 
> 
> It was hard as hell to follow up another piece after how well chapter 14 turned out. That and I've been on the move for the past month or so and still haven't quite settled down yet. While that's happening I'll do my best to continue updates. 
> 
> The story's in my head but Byleth and Dimitri are their own people and sometimes they're not so good at telling me what they want!
> 
> But it's really not about what they want is it? >:)
> 
> Thank you for all the readers that have been awaiting a new chapter. Though it's been a while you have never been far from my thoughts during these past few weeks. 
> 
> Much love. Mwah!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

“The horses will die if we push them any harder.”

“Then we keep the pace,” Dimitri said, the setting sun lending an ethereal light to his cheeks, his bangs blown back in the wind. “We can’t afford to go any slower or our _friends_,” he said the last word with a hateful growl, “might catch us in an ambush.”

Ashe could only nod in deference as he returned his attentions to the road ahead.

Claude had sighted an unidentifiable contingent of armed men that resembled neither bandits nor soldiers on the path ahead forcing the entire group to take a detour. The lesser known route would add several hours to their travel time. Under different circumstances they might’ve engaged but with every mage exhausted of magic and the horses overburdened they couldn’t afford the risk.

Byleth leaned forward in the saddle, her arms sliding further along Dimitri’s waist as she pressed her breasts heavier against his armored back, seeping calm through her mind and body that her intentions might flow through her glands as well. For her original team the long hours of fighting and riding had drained them of the magic needed to suppress to include Dimitri, the spell undone through the act of mating.

His anxiety had already begun riling the others, their scents layering atop each other in a compounding effect.

Her tactic seemed to work, however, and the oppressive weight of Dimitri’s mood lightened somewhat, his back loosening from some of the tension.

Resting her cheek against his shoulder—thankful for the additional comforting presence of the bond— Byleth closed her eyes.

Their connection pacified her to an extent that should have been alarming but the present lull during their journey on horseback filed her with a sense of security. To return home they only needed one last push of willpower with a touch of luck.

Soft prayers came from one horse behind her and she recognized Marianne’s voice.

Dimitri would lead them back in one piece; she trusted him.

His breathing felt steady and strong against her chest as it took all her resolve to stay awake and the feeling that she was safe and secure refused to dissipate, its origins stemming from that curious magical link between her and her mate.

The sunlight bathed the landscape in a deepening orange and she began to murmur a nonsensical prayer of her own, consisting of nothing but the words “be safe…” again and again. Dimitri tilted his head to listen but the rush of the passing countryside blew them away before he could. He had to turn back and focus on the road, but caressed her hands on the way to the reins.

Byleth held on to him, her arms never once loosening, tied to the lasting sanctuary of his body.

_We’ll be safe_, she thought. The night wasn’t over yet.

* * *

Half-awake and clothes rumpled, Manuela greeted them at the stables.

True to his word, Claude had notified her of their arrival but had done so minutes prior so that the hapless teacher arrived just as they began dismounting.

The woman couldn’t help gasping at the sight of Byleth’s torn clothes, searching her body for any sign of bleeding or broken bone. Then her hands flew over her mouth in greater shock at the remains of Marianne’s ruined dress.

“We have a few students that need the infirmary.” Byleth told her. That seemed to get her attention and her eyes snapped back into focus. They hardened as she pulled her hands away from her face. Her lipstick had smeared and Byleth deigned not tell her in case it disrupted her focus.

“Can all of them walk?”

She nodded.

“Then follow me.”

* * *

Felix leaned in defiance against the stone by the sick bed, his folded arms shielding the underside of his ribs drawing another lengthy sigh from the professor attempting to treat him.

The infirmary looked as if a local windstorm had come for a visit with everything in the room looking a bit out of place. Its current inhabitants, however, had nothing to do with the state of the room while Byleth refused to stare at the conspicuous collection of wine bottles tucked away next to a set of shelves. Those same shelves carried a variety of vulneraries and herbs placed every which way with some of the contents piled on top each other.

Yet there must have been some form of organization for Manuela had collected everything she needed with unprecedented precision.

Shabby and bruised under the eyes but alive, Marianne lay resting in the bed closest to Byleth. Magic had healed the worst of the injuries on her legs and the rest had been bandaged. Nothing covered her arms except for several white loops around her right wrist, the location of the wound standing out but before Byleth could inspect it further an argument had begun.

“Come on, Felix, show her.”

The alpha glared at the bed like it had wronged him beyond forgiveness, his fangs and pupils extended and grown from the overwhelming presence of the red-head that decided to get involved after repeated efforts to have him undress. The bull-headed young man must have sustained an injury that he deemed unnecessary to tend to on the battlefield, let alone an infirmary.

“Fuck off.” He growled.

In a corner of the room, Dedue and Ashe dressed their classmates’ hands. Ashe comforted the smaller mage whenever she winced at every other pass of the cloth while Mercedes only smiled, her head raised in gratitude at the duscan dabbing her palms with ointment. Damage done by overuse of magic had to be treated with a more basic method.

When Felix all but growled at the insufferable red-head engaging him, Mercedes kept her gaze with a discipline honed by years of prayer to Dedue’s ministrations, but Annette began flickering her eyes towards the two young men—and occasionally Byleth— with a wholesome curiosity.

“Wha- Hey now don’t be like that, we’re all just trying to look out for you here.” He spoke in playful tones, but his voice had an edge. Like a promise that things would only get worse if Felix continued to resist.

Byleth considered stepping in until Dimitri held her fast at the wrist.

“I think we should let them talk it out first.”

She sensed the tension between the two from where she stood, most of it originating not from Felix but his taller counterpart. The strange creature from the forest had left an impression on the alpha, one that unburied a score of missed opportunities and tragedy in regard to his late brother. Yet despite sensing all of that, Byleth still nodded.

They needed a chance to work past it themselves.

On the bed next to Marianne’s, Claude indulged Hilda with an extensive wipe down of her forearms and hands using a cloth to ensure there hadn’t been any wounds missed by magic. As he moved from one arm to the next, she played with the end of his single braid, humming both in pleasure at being tended to— by her house leader no less— and with sympathetic excitement from the rising antagonism of the alphas across the way.

Dimitri, who had remained quiet throughout the proceedings, leaned in to whisper in her ear, “I’m going to ask Dedue to send everyone back to their dorms once they’re done. Is there anything you wanted to say to them before I do?”

His question carried much significance. She had many things to tell her students. So much had happened and the truth, she knew… they deserved nothing less than the truth.

His fingers grazed her waist and she turned to meet his gaze.

But tonight would not be a good time to address it. The timing would be wrong.

“Tomorrow…” she said, the inflection of her voice lending her an assurance she wished to feel. “After I report in, I’d like to speak to everyone. All the blue lions, including Marianne.”

Burnt oak enveloped her senses as he covered her with his natural smell, something he had only ever done in privacy. His gaze searched hers with more intent than before as his hand pressed harder into her side, holding her in place. Needier.

She wondered if the bond gave him more agency to do so.

“Do I…” His voice cracked and he looked away to clear the thickness in his throat or perhaps even survey the room for curious eyes— Byleth wouldn’t know because he had a monopoly on her attentions— before resting back on her own. “Do I get a say in the matter? I’m… as much a part of this as you are, professor. A part of you.” He said this with a light blush.

“I…” Byleth felt a matching one cover her cheeks and she found it rather difficult to look him in the eye all of a sudden. After all, he did become a part of her. In every sense of the word. “Y-yes. I agree.”

“Thank you.” He breathed as if he had been expecting her to deny him, as if she could consider doing such a thing. Relief entered over her through his smell and the magic tying them together. Byleth had to keep from gathering him in her arms as he beheld her like this.

As if sensing the intimacy of her thoughts his eyes lowered to her lips and for a wild second she thought he was going to lean down in in front of everyone to kiss her when—

“If you don’t take off your armor, you’ll be making our professors upset and you wouldn’t want them upset, would you?”

Sylvain's voice brought them both back to the present as Byleth turned her head just in time to see her incorrigible student flash a pointed grin over his shoulder. Exhaustion had stripped away the humanity in his features leaving his sharp pupils and teeth exposed for all to see.

Byleth didn’t miss the small jolt along Manuela’s shoulders at the sight of his transformed face, though she maintained an impressive silence in its wake.

“I’ll let Dedue know then,” Dimitri muttered, looking for all the world like he was sulking. She coughed into her hand to hide her teasing grin knowing that it was one thing for the others to catch hints of the bond in Byleth’s scent and wholly another to show outright affection in front of his classmates. Then he left her side and, after giving Marianne a once-over for any signs of discomfort, Byleth joined Maneula at her post.

The other professor sighed in relief at her approach, hands full with necessities for whatever her magic couldn’t fix. The pigment from earlier was still stuck to her lips when she turned towards her to whisper, “Are they always like this? We’ll be in here all night if they keep this up. And I thought mine was bad enough.” She gave a lighthearted smile. “What a love nest you have, professor.”

“Since when do I have a love nest?” Byleth asked.

Manuela raised an eyebrow but before she could speak Sylvain gave a short bark of laughter.

“Oh? Where do you think you’re going—”

“Get off me you ridiculous—”

“Don’t fight it, Felix, we’re only doing what’s best.”

“Now you’re nagging just like the women you bring back—”

Sylvain caught both his hands and bent down on level with the other alpha’s ear to whisper something to him.

“What did I tell you. A love nest!” Manuela muttered as if sharing a conspiracy, tired eyes filling with delight.

Felix shoved him out of the way but not before the second deepest blush Byleth had ever seen on him painted his cheeks and he collapsed down on the bed in defeat. He began removing his armor in sullen silence.

Sylvain stood there hands relaxed at his hips, grinning wide, fangs and all. All the way up until Felix removed the last of the material covering his torso and Manuela set to work. The sight of the mottled bruising and swollen skin under the ribs from the result of crude healing reduced his grin to a smile. Stiff. He studied the wound with an unnatural stillness, prompting a thought to start circling in her head.

That the wound would heal quick with no scars left behind, that the injury looked worse than it really was. For it seemed as though the easy-going alpha before her — standing there with a low rage concealed in the false smile that gave him away— would likely kill the next one that did.

Byleth felt sorry for whoever that would be.

  
  


“Now for you.”

The healer had given Marianne a final examination for the night and, satisfied with the results, had risen to address Byleth. The infirmary was now empty save the two of them with Dimitri just beyond the door, his presence embedded in her instinct. A beacon in her messy heart. His low voice carried into the room as he spoke with someone just outside her view.

“Byleth?”

“Oh…” She looked back to see the professor’s amused expression. “Sorry…” she apologized, her shoulders turning towards the exit. “But… that’s not necessary. I don’t want to keep you up any longer.”

Warm hands encircled hers— an artist’s hands— as Byleth looked down to see the longer, more lovely fingers covering her own.

“Oh, Byleth…” She sighed. “You remind me of a fellow singer back in the company. Clothes asunder… wobbling side to side… bloody—

“Why was she bloody?”

“Doesn’t matter,” She waved the question away. “But what did,” and here she leaned in as her eyes grew wide and conspiratorial, “was that no matter how bad she had it she always showed up for practice. We had such lovely duets together, her and I! And do you know how things turned out for her?”

“She’s still singing with the company to this day?” Byleth suggested, wondering where in the world Manuela was going with this.

“Of course! Except she passed out right on the floor the day she walked in bleeding everywhere and would have died if I hadn’t been capable of a little magic back then as well.”

“Wait so the bloody part of the story did matter in the e—”

The bond shivered.

Byleth turned to look outside but Manuela pressed forward to grab her attention.

“You’re missing the point, Byleth,” Manuela insisted with such enthusiasm that she had to take a step back. “First you come in looking like you’d taken on a den of beasts—” then another step“—which you did all by yourself based on what Claude told me—and then,” and another, “then that prince of yours wouldn’t stop looking at you almost the entire time we were in here and the students— oh, the students— they look like they know and yet they don’t know. And—” Manuela shook her head. “Ogghh, I really must be tired to go on such a rant when I just wanted to look you over. So!”

The edge of a sick bed bumped into the back of her legs and with the authority she had seen the older woman wield all night, Manuela guided her down to the mattress as Byleth realized she had been corralled without her knowledge. The healer placed a gentle hand on the part of her shoulder closest to the neck, pushing back her clothing just enough to expose the skin.

“The first thing we’ll do is take a look at this curious little mark that looks as if a certain _naughty_ prince left it behind for others to see.”

The older woman had caught on to so much in such a short period of time that Byleth didn’t know whether to feel mortified or astonished. But as Manuela continued to look at her in that expectant way, she dropped her head in defeat like Felix had.

The ex-performer made a noise of approval, fingers running along the healing proof of her mating, and began the checkup.

Dimitri was alone when Byleth stepped past the infirmary door rubbing at the fresh bandages covering her neck and shoulder, fighting back a wave of exhaustion.

Then the sight of him leaning against the stone wall struck her mid-yawn.

His skin seemed to glow in the dim lighting that emphasized the simple fact of his handsomeness and the slim, compact musculature of his shoulders gifting him with a physical attraction unparalleled even amongst her peers.

She couldn’t shake the feeling like she was seeing him for the first time—her thoughts undoing something inside her as she studied him— with an open fascination beyond just the walls of his room. No interferences or expectations in the empty solace of their surroundings, just an appreciation for the prince before her.

He had his brows drawn together in deep thought, but her footsteps alerted him, his features softening as he looked up at her.

“How are you feeling?” He asked and then the scent of her appreciation must have reached him because his pupils gleamed sharp at her all of sudden and he caught her by the hips as she passed. Perhaps emboldened by that same pleasure and their solitude in the expanse of the hallway, he pulled her into a partial embrace. Their hips met but left enough space between them so he could see her expression; the intimacy of his actions would be evident to any bystander.

“Looks like Professor Manuela took care of you,” he noted as his eyes skimmed the healer’s handiwork.

“She did...” Byleth said, her voice expelling in a breathless whisper. Still entranced by her earlier thoughts, her eyes traveled the length of his torso. From his neck down to his waist. She raised a hand, placing fingertips against his chest while resting the other on the plated surface of his forearms. Though he had endured less combat today than the others the fighting had scratched his armor in new places. She traced a set of indents where errant stones had grazed or impacted the metal.

She heard him suck in a quiet breath and the air began feeling warmer.

“We weren’t followed.” He sounded a little more breathless than before. Like her. “Ingrid made sure of it. I… I had her inspect the surrounding area.”

“Did the others say anything?” Byleth asked, her question sounding like a sigh, hand still trailing a path down his body. Her detailed inspection.

His hands tightened around her, thumbs pressing into the pocket of her hips. She could smell the delicious cinnamon in his longing.

“No… nothing...” His voice came out low. Choked. “Nothing, th-they…” he trailed off as if losing his train of thought.

She could feel him between her legs as her hand ended in a hover over the second most intimate part of him. The protruding fabric of his arousal.

How many times had he entered her with this?

“Professor…” Dimitri growled, his need both swelling against her and expanding inside them. “If you… keep going…” He lowered his head until Byleth had no choice but to look into his eyes and there she saw his endless desire, the hunger he struggled to keep inside.

“_I’ll eat you alive_.”

Pinned in place by his mesmerizing lust, the world blurred and shifted around them until she could see nothing but her mate and his honest yearning for her. Her throat thick with her own rich arousal. Her hand, the one still on his arm, gripped down with the effort to stay steady on her feet.

She wanted him with her very being, wanted all of him. Even the darkness of his past and the uncertainty of his present. The entirety of his soul. Wanted him even in the possessive claim of his gaze as he wrestled with the animalistic nature inside.

To where she wasn’t even aware when she said, “Then eat me, Dimitri,” her voice rasping with temptation and welcome as she came undone inside. “_Go ahead and eat me_.”

Then, before her mind could make sense of what her body was doing, her hand lowered of its own accord, circling around the head of his erection through his clothes, and— like she had imagined him doing when he touched himself in his room— stroked down hard and slow.

Dimitri wrenched her toward him in a movement greedy and rough and had been about to snatch her up in a marking kiss when they heard a distinct rattling somewhere down the hall.

Several rooms down a door swung open and— faster than Byleth had ever seen him move— Dimitri slipped his arm around her waist, pulled her against him, and spirited them around the corner into the darkest part of the second floor.

He pressed them into an alcove, leaning her back flat against the cold stone with one hand splayed out away from her body, shielding her from sight should someone come round the corner, and the other wrapped around her waist so that he could fit within the intimate space of the alcove. He was still aroused, but had his head turned to listen for further movement down the hall.

They heard the tell-tale tapping of slippered feet, which meant one of the faculty either needed materials from their office or a late snack, neither of which would bring anyone past the alcove, but they couldn’t afford the risk of moving and being heard. The two of them stayed as they were. Still as statues. Silent as stone.

He still had his length pressed between her legs, almost pushed inside, and it felt good. Byleth squeezed her thighs together in an uncontrollable shiver as Dimitri trembled in turn. She willed for the nightly wanderer to go away soon as she kept her hands fixed to the prince’s sides, counting numbers in her head, coming up with anything and everything she could think of to distract her from the reality of their bodies.

Because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold herself back.

Dimitri had shifted his hands back to her hips as he breathed in quiet, shallow breaths, forehead resting on hers, while they waited for the unknown individual in the hall to return to their room.

He burned like a furnace, his scent seeping into her nose through his clothes as the heat drew out similar short breaths from her chest. Their lips had come so close together that she only needed to angle her head up to bring their mouths together. She was coming undone all over again.

The slippered feet paced back and forth for what seemed to be a never-ending age almost in rhythm to the beating of Dimitri’s heart.

His heart beat so loud that she could hear it, feel it thudding against her own through his armor and, in a bid of madness, let her lips skim the corner of his mouth. It must have excited him because he made a small, needy thrust against her— and the slide of his body against hers, his breath on her lips— everything felt amplified tenfold.

The footsteps shuffled as if turning round and then finally, finally, began heading back the way it came one step at a time until the same door handle rattled once more and creaked open. Then clicked shut.

They had both come completely undone.

Deft fingers reached up to the bindings of his collar, Dimitri’s chest stopping mid-breath as he realized what she was doing, and undid the clip. Sweet cinnamon engulfed everything she knew as Byleth dipped in to the crook of his neck, seeking out the source of his wonderful smell. Only the softest tremble in their bond wakened her enough to stem the instinct to mate and instead she kissed the exposed, naked, and raised skin.

Dimitri’s fraying control snapped.

He lifted her against the wall with a muted sound, trapping her legs around him with his elbows as he dragged his tongue in a searing trail above her breasts—clothes still torn from their last encounter— and then to the bandages along her neck so that he could both take in her scent and push himself between the wet folds of her shorts.

She tangled her hands into his beautiful hair while kissing away the sweat forming on his forehead, sweeping back his bangs, as he entered her just enough to slide in burning pleasure past her weeping glands.

Even in the throes of their passion, they touched each other in a restrained hush composed of nothing but the quiet slide of cloth on cloth and subdued breaths as they gave into each other over and over again as deep as their clothes would allow, some distant part of their minds still knowing to keep silent lest someone catch them in their fervor.

Byleth felt…so _open_, as if that single word could adequately describe the receiving of her mate’s virility and essence into her body and soul. Comfortable in a way she hadn’t felt before even with his full length inside her, she streaked her fingers through the now messy, blonde hair as she held him close in her arms. She drowned in his sweet scent as he drowned in hers while caging her in with youthful strength and muscle, pinning her against him with each thrust of his hips.

But the strenuous act of bonding and subsequent efforts in battle meant he couldn’t last much longer. Before the cresting pleasures of Byleth’s glands could come to fruition he came into his clothes, staining the material like he had so long ago in her room as his body shook with the intensity of his release.

His arms loosened and Byleth sank back down to her feet.

She was about to cradle his head when his knees suddenly gave way and she caught him in time to keep them from slamming into the floor.

“Oh…” she breathed, the first spoken word since they hid in the alcove. “Are you okay, Dimitri?”

He gazed up at her, expression hidden in the darkness, and he didn’t reply when she laid a hand on his cheek.

Instead he placed a hand along her thigh, kissing her palm with a passing turn of his head, and then— much to her surprise— lifted her skirt to press his nose into the cascade of slick soaking her clothes underneath.

The lewd moan that almost escaped her throat would have brought any number of sleeping personnel out into the halls, but she held it back, her hands tightening in Dimitri’s hair as he continued to scent the burning core between her legs. Then he mouthed her through the black cloth of her shorts and the erotic nature of his action numbed Byleth’s mind to all thought as she stifled another heady moan from the back of her throat.

“Ah… it’s okay… you don’t…” She had to push through the haze his hot mouth left over her as she ran her hands through his hair as she spoke. “You don’t have to, you’re tired…” She did it again, several more times. There was something stabilizing in the way the strands felt through her fingertips. “We should go to bed. It’s getting late.”

And indeed it had for the darkness had set some time ago and the drowsiness from before began creeping into her again.

“Stay with me tonight.” he murmured into her; his voice rough with residual need. “I want you beside me.”

“Dimitri, I ca—” She began.

“You can.” He wrapped both arms around her hips holding her in place, as if she might walk away and leave him. “We won’t do anything, I promise. That time you stayed over by accident,” Byleth had to lean in to hear him, his voice had gone lower than a whisper. “I remembered sleeping so well. The first in a very long time.”

Though his words pulled at Byleth’s heart, the nightmare she endured that same night rose in her mind. But before she could tell him he looked up at her and even though she couldn’t see his countenance she knew the expression he had on his face. The one she had become so weak to that it felt like nothing could keep her from acquiescing to his wishes.

“Please, professor, stay with me for tonight.” He caught her free hand in his own and brought the palm once more to his cheek. “Don’t leave me alone.”

How could she deny him when he begged her like this? How could she ever deny him?

Caressing her thumb along his smooth skin, Byleth let his words hang in the air so that her answer would have more weight. She stroked him a little longer, tender along his cheekbone, soft beneath the eye, and for all his experience in the field she noted that his face had remained surprisingly unblemished. She hoped it would stay that way, but wondered how realistic that wish really was. If he were to be only marked by time, Byleth imagined that he would age very handsomely.

In the end, however, all she could do was say a few quiet words.

“Alright, Dimitri, alright.”

* * *

She had never lain in bed with him like this during all her times in Dimitri’s room.

He had smothered her in his blankets as soon as she joined him and watched her nestle into the layers from his place beside her. He wore a fresh pair of soft trousers, his shoulders bare, while she lay swathed in his sheets with only small clothes underneath. Even then he still hadn’t touched her in any way beyond helping her with the covers or the caress of an arm or wrist.

They had both bathed before coming together in his room and the unbroken burnt oak of his scent washed over her in a comforting wave.

Beneath the bedding they held hands, fingers interlaced.

“Professor?” In the hush of his room, the prince gave her a gentle squeeze.

“Yes, Dimitri?”

The earnestness in his voice reminded her of an earlier time, when the situation hadn’t been as complex as it was today, though the clouds of their particular future had always ever lingered on the horizon.

“What you decide to say to everyone tomorrow, I’d like you to know…” He squeezed her hand again and this time she squeezed back. “That I don’t regret what we did. The bond, the… the sex…” He paused, fighting past his embarrassment, before continuing. “I don’t regret any of it.”

_Regret_…

Byleth traced her thumb along his pronounced knuckles, wondering if they were the same ones he had bruised all that time ago, noticed during their first shared intimacy.

Regret remained present in more than a few of her memories, but none that she would attribute to the connection Dimitri had created between them. A connection that linked him to her. Then, as the direction of her thoughts placed her on a familiar trail, her thinking spawned a question.

What of the link he was promised in return?

“There’s something you aren’t telling me… isn’t there?” The light accusation, though whispered into the quiet air, caused Dimitri’s hand to shudder in her grip. “About the bond…”

Feeling his reaction, her heart picked up a few paces but not enough to rouse her as the prince stayed silent for many beats. As she waited for him to answer, Byleth vowed to revisit Hanneman’s library tomorrow and find the passage that continued to elude her memory. In the moonlight she could see his jaw working as he thought of his response.

“It’s nothing of consequence,” he said after a time. “And, like the archbishop warned me, you become susceptible to my commands if you mark me as I did you.”

Another idea sprang to mind. “Couldn’t I just compel you to tell me?” Byleth asked.

Dimitri gave a helpless laugh before cradling her hand as if to shelter her from his next words as he replied, “This world isn’t fair like that, professor. I truly wish it were so, but only alphas can influence their mates. Fortunately, history has taught us that abuse of such power amongst crest-bearers would only involve the country in unnecessary wars and that knowledge of designations were better left exclusive to the nobility that produced them save those deemed necessary to know.”

“Such as the church…” Byleth concluded.

“Yes, such as the church.” He drew closer to her until she could feel the matching heat of his torso, though despite the additional warmth her own body provided, the scent of Dimitri in her snug cocoon eased any discomforts she had. “I think we should discuss this another time. Like you said, professor, it’s getting late.”

“Alright…” she replied, though still somewhat unsatisfied with the answers he provided tonight. He never did answer her question.

But the alluring pull of sleep and fatigue pressed at her eyelids and the warmth of their close proximity eased her towards the brink of unconsciousness. She stroked his knuckles a few more times, her surroundings growing more out-of-focus with each touch. Their final conversation had expended the last of her energy and, as her mind sank deeper and deeper into the world of dreams, her inhalations became heavier with every breath.

Before she could say another word, Byleth fell asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

Dimitri lay motionless in a deep sleep.

In the early morning light Byleth had awoken first, mind well-rested from an undisturbed sleep. No nightmares this time and neither of them had shifted in the night allowing her an uninterrupted view of her mate.

His eyes still had a sunken look even in the depths of his slumber and she raised a hand touch them. She would have run a finger along the bruised skin but his unguarded expression made her think better of it, pushing herself out of bed instead and careful not to disturb him. He deserved a longer rest after so many sleepless nights.

She had work to do, after all, the promise of a long morning. One that would require her to steel herself for what came next.

The archbishop did not like to be kept waiting.

* * *

“What have you _done_?”

Anger disrupted Seteth’s usual calm demeanor, his high cheekbones flushed, posture rigid in the disbelief that something he had warned her about had come true regardless. His voice carried in the empty chamber but with no one to listen except herself and Rhea. For that, at least, Byleth was grateful.

The idea for secrecy had been nothing but a mere fancy. The truth had been discovered in a matter of hours.

Rhea had yet to say a word, her expression neutral.

Byleth didn’t know what unnerved her more but she squared her shoulders nonetheless and met Seteth’s gaze without flinching. Perhaps the bandaging visible under her clothes was all the proof he needed to conclude the worst.

She schooled all guilt out of her expression.

History had taught them, Dimitri had explained, that abusing bonds for the sake of compulsion had terrible consequences, which also meant that a world had existed where such abuse had once been common. But at what cost? How many antiquated practices had history been unable to wean out?

Byleth had been far enough removed from Fodlan history where she did not know basic facts regarding the Church of Seiros, the dominant religion in the country. Nor had she recognized the immediate significance of her crest and the King of Liberation. These small but noticeable gaps in knowledge set her apart from many others, dooming her to cross lines without awareness. A burden of being raised away from religious influence and oversight.

But they also gave Byleth different eyes with which to consider Seteth’s anger. How much of his outburst had been influenced by ingrained biases? Or did he think she had taken advantage of a student? The latter she could understand without issue. The guilt from receiving the bond had yet to go away.

Seteth crossed his arms. “You know very well what I’m talking about. You have one chance to explain yourself and tell us what happened.” His breathing steadied as he waited with surprising patience for Byleth to speak, though his complexion stayed red. He seemed genuine enough and, from the corner of her eye, Byleth saw Rhea nod in agreement.

“All students returned safe and sound,” Byleth began, “from the forest along with Marianne. We don’t know what became of the scholar that kidnapped her, but we encountered the beast he described and… and many more.” Her chest throbbed from the memory despite her healed wounds.

Rhea’s brows drew together at the wavering in Byleth’s voice. “Go on.” She said, clasped hands clenching a fraction tighter. “What happened next?”

Heartened by the archbishop’s encouragement, a sign that she was at least willing to consider the situation before passing judgement, Byleth continued. “There were too many and I had to make a difficult decision.”

She remembered how Sylvain’s shoulders had stiffened when she had whispered her plan to him. How the pain flashed through his eyes before practicality won out in the end. She hoped he could find it in him to forgive her for forcing him to make that choice.

“I had to create a diversion.”

“Byleth…” Rhea murmured.

“The monster would have overrun our position. So I directed the majority of them elsewhere while the others continued on. I was supposed to die.” Byleth said in a simple statement. Her words, however, elicited a flinch from her audience. “And I wouldn’t be alive right now if it hadn’t been for Dimitri. He chose initiate the bond despite what it meant for his future and by doing so he saved my life.” Byleth turned to address Rhea directly. “Condemn me if you must, but leave Dimitri out of it. He has done nothing wrong, only what he thought was necessary.”

Rhea continued to watch her with such seriousness that Byleth wondered how much of her words had gotten through. Then she tilted her head towards her chief aide and said,

“Seteth, leave us.”

“But—!” The shock on his face must have matched her own as Byleth’s eyes widened at the order. Rhea had never sent Seteth away before.

“Do as I say. I must speak with Byleth alone.”

The desire to disobey flashed in his eyes, but he had no choice. He bowed low and said, “As I was. I will leave the two of you be.” Then he walked away, boots clicking on the stone floor in a hesitant and awkward manner before he paused at the double doors. “I will inspect the guard while you continue your discussion and will be back in a few hours. Is that sufficient time for you, archbishop?”

“Yes, that is.”

He nodded but not before shooting one last look in Byleth’s direction. ‘_Be respectful_’, his glance seemed to say. Then he shut the door behind him.

“Come with me, Byleth.” Rhea said as soon as Seteth’s footsteps faded away.

“Where are we going?” Byleth asked as the archbishop began guiding her towards the same doors Seteth left through. “Your office is that way.”

“Somewhere more private,” was all Rhea would say.

* * *

“Let me see the mark.”

Byleth let Rhea’s elegant tips hover over her shoulder. They had a startling warmth reminding her once again that the archbishop possessed a crest designation of her own.

“It’s bandaged, I’m not sure you can—”

“I can have Manuela re-wrap your shoulder. Please, Byleth, let me see.”

Her cheeks heated at the request and the reason why Rhea brought her here started making sense. Yet, she couldn’t help hesitating. Undressing in front of others would be nothing new for Byleth had had contracts that sometimes required days in the field. Yet the thought of removing her clothes in front of someone as significant as Rhea made her feel self-conscious regardless. Standing in the grandest bedroom in all of Garreg Mach only worsened the feeling.

They had come to the archbishop’s personal quarters.

Rhea sighed, lowering her hand. “Have I really made things so difficult for you that you cannot relax around me?”

Byleth rubbed a hand over her shoulder again. The dressing felt unnatural against her skin. “What you did before our mission,” she said, feeling more awkward than anything else. “Didn’t help. Dimitri was already going through a hard time and your words only isolated him further.”

“That was not my intent. I only wanted to protect you. Had your student not entered the room my warning would have been only for you. But it was hard to believe things had progressed to where you would allow him into your quarters so late at night, I…”

Byleth couldn’t tell if Rhea was flustered or upset, but seeing those genuine emotions in the older woman made her seem a little less imposing, less like an authoritative figure and more like someone Byleth could relate to.

So much so that Byleth discarded the formalities and asked, teasing, “What about you, Rhea?” daring to refer to her superior without a title.

Though Rhea had always shown a much greater interest in Byleth than anyone else amongst the faculty, there had always been a professional barrier between them. Less so now after presenting but it still existed nonetheless. Now she was testing that separation for the first time.

“Are _you_ allowed in my room so late?”

Rhea reacted even better than expected. “What—! I… Byleth!” As a girlish blush spread from cheek to cheek, making her look much younger than her actual years.

Byleth’s question must have been so unexpected that her embarrassment proved too much and Rhea had to turn her head aside, hand now covering part of her face. It was intriguing to see this aspect of her.

“I suppose… I suppose I should be grateful you don’t hold a grudge against me for what I did… even if it was for your own good.”

The last sentence irritated her, but also helped Byleth realize she couldn’t stay mad at this woman. After everything up to this point, Rhea had proven that she _did_ care, albeit in her own problematic way. Whether for Byleth or the goddess inside, a feeling she suspected leaned closer to the latter, in the end it didn’t matter. She had chosen a side and the kingdom would no doubt continue to have ties with the church of seiros. Rhea would remain a presence in her life for many years to come.

“So you aren’t upset?” Byleth asked. “About the bond?”

Rhea lowered her hand from her cheek. “At first,” she admitted. “I was _very_ upset. I wanted to come find you as soon as I discovered the truth. Wouldn’t that be a sight? The archbishop herself breaking open your door in front of all those students.”

Byleth winced at the image Rhea painted. She also decided that now would not be a good time to mention that the room would have been empty as she had spent the night with Dimitri. “I don’t think the doors would have survived.”

Rhea had a girlish laugh as well, which for some reason gave Byleth the sense that, perhaps somewhere inside, the archbishop hadn’t quite grown up. 

“Will you let me see?” Rhea asked her once more.

Byleth couldn’t help but wonder if the whole thing hadn’t been an act to get her to relax. Had she always been this suspicious of others? An infiltrator had murdered her father, a girl who everyone thought was an ally until she revealed herself to be something else. That would ruin anyone’s ability to trust another person let alone an individual like Rhea, a woman Byleth often struggled to understand.

She rolled her shoulders and let her coat fall to the floor. “Yes,” she said finally, eyes lowering. It would feel strange to undress while looking into someone else’s eyes. “But I want to know. Why do you hate them so much?”

“Who?” Rhea asked even though she likely knew the answer.

“Alphas…” Byleth replied, not allowing her to skirt the topic.

“Yes… them.” The distaste was evident in Rhea’s voice.

Byleth slipped her fingers under the hem of her top and lifted it over her head, exposing the white cloth covering her breasts. Bruises dotted the expanse of her waistline resembling handprints that if examined would come close in size to those of a certain blue prince. Anyone else would have noticed them right away, but Rhea only had eyes for the marks on her neck.

“It would be easy for you to guess, Byleth.”

Warm fingers helped her find the beginning of the bandage.

“Hate is a powerful word, one that would only come from a personal experience.”

A sick lurching flipped her stomach at the implication and her eyes flicked to Rhea’s neck as the archbishop continued unbinding her bandage. “Someone forced you to…?”

“No… not me.”

Halfway off, the cool air dried the sweat that had accumulated beneath the wrappings.

“Someone important to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Byleth said, her immediate reply.

“Don’t be.” The last of the cloth fell away and laid bare the mating bite. Rhea gazed down at it long and unblinking, as if transfixed. “It was a long, long time ago.”

Something in her tone made Byleth think of not just years or a decade.

Rhea placed another hand on her other shoulder. “All that matters…”

It made her think of several decades and Byleth had the sudden, errant thought that Rhea might be much older than she looked.

“… is that you’re still alive.” And then the unexpected happened once again.

Rhea pulled her in while Byleth had been distracted and embraced her. As the woman held her closer than she ever had, Rhea’s scent— she had never actually experienced it— washed over her in an aroma. Silky and sweet.

A memory sprang to the forefront of her mind, one that did and yet didn’t belong to her: the scent reminded her of the flowers from the Zanado canyon, plucked from trees by the riverside. She had never seen such flowers before nor what they smelled like but a swell of emotion prompted her to return the embrace.

She didn’t understand why but a weight seemed to lift from Byleth’s shoulders, an intrinsic trust that reminded her of the one she once shared with Jeralt, and Rhea held her like that for a long time. Not a word between them and yet they had never had an interaction more meaningful.

An astonishing and liberating, but temporary, peace.

* * *

Some of the forget-me-nots had begun to wilt.

Byleth squeezed her fingers around a stalk and pinched the green until the flower came away in her hand.

The proper way would have been to cut at the base with a set of shears but the greenhouse had been empty, the keeper nowhere to be seen. The monastery forces had been spread thin of late with servants doubling down as roving guards throughout the day. It made sense that greenhouse staffing would be affected.

A petal came loose in her hand, the blue faded into a near-white. Another week and the wilted ones would be replaced with the new. On impulse Byleth removed another and now had two flowers in her hand. This one had already begun curling brown around the edges.

She thought of Dedue and the promise she made here some time ago.

She had had misgivings even then, how death would be a greater possibility than ever before. Even now the monastery struggled to maintain its own security resulting in the circumstances that forced a student to sacrifice his future to keep his professor alive. How feasible had her promise been? How realistic?

Then there was Rhea. And Dimitri. Both of them had been keeping things from her; Dimitri, with his cryptic answer from last night regarding the bond, and Rhea…

Byleth bit at her lip.

Many things had been left unsaid with the only new information Byleth had being that someone close to Rhea had been abused by the bond, possibly had one forced upon them. How did one force a bond on to another? Byleth should have asked but the embrace had driven all logical thought from her mind.

“I doubt those were meant to be picked.”

Blunt and lightly mocking, the voice came from the greenhouse entrance. Byleth turned to look at the speaker.

“They were wilting,” she replied in answer to Felix’s wry face. “I didn’t know you cared for flowers.”

“I don’t.” He ran his hand along his bangs, a tic for whenever he was nervous.

Or agitated.

“Dedue said I’d find you here. So here I am.” Unlike the others, he looked her in the eye without straying to her neck, undistracted by the altered scent that labelled her as someone bonded. She had always appreciated his no-nonsense approach to life, always focused on what truly mattered to him.

“Are you here to spar?”

Felix chuckled, but it sounded mirthless. Then he came closer and that was when Byleth noticed his stiff shoulders, the tightness around his eyes, and realized something.

“I heard from Sylvain that you risked your life fighting four battalions’ worth of beasts and succeeded in defeating every last one of them.” He would have come off as impressed if one of his hands hadn’t twitched before closing into a fist, the other resting on the hilt of the training blade he always kept at his side at all times even in the monastery.

He was upset at her.

The perpetual fighter pinned her with a glare as he continued, “But then he mentioned that you barely survived. In fact, he said that if it hadn’t been for the boar you really would have died.”

Felix had always been quick to show his aggression, but she hadn’t expected this kind of reaction. Then his heightened body heat reminded her of his nature and she couldn’t help wondering how much of it influenced his temper.

“So what’s the point,” he growled, “of fighting to survive like you told me, if you die before I even get a chance to defeat you?”

Not his nature then, Byleth decided, but the rapport she had somehow managed to build with him over the past year. His question squeezed at her heart, but she held his gaze. Criticisms always came first to Felix’s tongue, but the young man often struggled to express his true feelings.

“It was an easy decision to make… at first.” Byleth said. Her own hands had curled into fists without her knowing. “I didn’t expect to feel what I did at the end however.”

Felix waited for her to continue, watching her expression, and when she didn’t he asked, “What did you feel?”

Her thoughts burned and she had to look away, their conversation steeping her in memory. How she struggled during what should have been her final moments.

“I didn’t want to die.” Byleth whispered. She grasped her forearm with the other hand. “I wanted to live.”

She could feel the weight of Felix’s gaze as he continued studying her. “Would you do it again?” He asked. “Knowing what you know now. Would you do it again?”

Byleth gazed down at the flowers still resting in her hand. Every blue petal lay separated from their golden centers, the stems bent and mixed in with the rest. She had crushed them by accident.

Her actions had consequences; choices that would have second, third— even fourth— order effects on the people and circumstances around her. Byleth realized she didn’t know how to answer his question, didn’t know if any response she gave now would be completely honest.

Felix searched her face for a long time, breathing maybe once or twice during the extent of his focus, looking for the answer somewhere in her gaze.

Then, with a surprising amount of helplessness, he replied, “Your silence is telling, professor.”  
Followed by a sigh, long and exasperated, as he ran another hand through his hair. “Don’t let the boar see that reaction though. He wouldn’t care how it looked, he’d lock you away in a tower if it kept you from doing something like that again.”

Byleth had the sudden image of herself breaking out from the supposed prison tower within a few hours of her confinement. Dimitri would need to ensure he didn’t underestimate her lock-picking skills. “What were you really here for, Felix?” She asked once she escaped her mental tower. “Why were you looking for me?”

“Tch.” Felix scoffed. He must have suspected where her mind had gone because he shook his head and when he looked at her again his eyes were shining in amusement. “What was up with that? Anyway…” he shook his head again, bemused. “I was actually sent by the boar to bring you to the infirmary. We’re all waiting for you. And…” A certain gleam entered his eye and Byleth had feeling she needed to brace herself. “If you’re looking to tell us about the bond, you can. Just know that your mate has already confessed to sleeping with you so you can at least get that part off your chest.”

“…what…” was all Byleth managed to say after a stunned silence. “Wait…” Then she blushed so hard that she covered both her cheeks lest they catch fire. “So you already knew and yet you didn’t…?”

Felix had a strange mix of impatience and amusement in his expression and it took her a minute to realize that he had teased her just now.

“I can’t speak for the others, but all I need is for you to continue cutting down your opponents, inspiring me with your abilities, and challenging me in our spars. There is fighting to be done and I won’t waste any more time discussing matters that can wait until this is all over.”

His sincerity brought a smile to her face.

“What?” Felix asked, though a smirk of his own crossed his features. He sounded a bit self-conscious. “Did you think I’d care about something like that? You’ve more than proven yourself to me.” Then he turned without another word and gestured for her to follow.

Byleth didn’t hesitate, falling in step beside him and, as they crossed the threshold of the greenhouse, opened her hand and tilted it forward.

There were still so many questions unanswered, Byleth thought as the petals left her palm. But Felix had given her confidence and hope and she held her head high without the need to look down.

She would find out the truth one way or another.

* * *

“She’s here.” Felix said when he entered the infirmary and every blue lion inside turned to give Byleth their attention.

They seemed spellbound to say the least.

Dimitri stood at the forefront of the group next to Marianne’s sickbed and gave Byleth a hopeful look— a good sign— his cheeks still a residual pink. He continued watching her even after she took her place by his side while Felix resumed his position next to Ingrid and Sylvain. His happiness traveled through the bond, a simple joy in having her present, and Byleth marveled at his ability to continue having such honest feelings despite his pain.

Then a delicious aroma caught her attention and Byleth traced it to an empty plate on the side-table by Marianne’s elbow.

“Dedue and I worked together to make this for Marianne,” Ashe piped up. He had seen her looking. “I think she liked it because she finished the whole thing.”

“I enjoyed it very much.” Marianne agreed. The circles under her eyes had lightened to where she could smile and no longer look ragged and worn. Her hair sat in a neat braid that looked like Ingrid’s handiwork.

The pegasus rider herself stood out in the small crowd. She was the only one who hadn’t quite met Byleth’s gaze when she arrived and they had shared enough interactions for Byleth to recognize it for what it was.

Uneasiness.

Dorothea, by contrast, looked much too excited for her own good. She had a hand clasped on Ingrid’s shoulder while she looked on with intrigue.

Everyone else seemed to be waiting with bated breath, like they wanted to hear what Byleth had to say. However Dimitri had broken the news, it had done little to affect their desire to hear her side of the story.

As Byleth looked around the room at all her students, her eyes widened with surprise when they landed on the petite girl wedged between Ingrid and Sylvain.

“Flayn?” Byleth asked. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, professor, I am!” The girl giggled, then turned to address the group. “I didn’t mean to rest for so long, everyone. I guess the incident from back then took a lot out of me. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help with you, Marianne. Or you, professor.”

“It’s not your fault,” murmured Marianne, her eyes cast down to her folded hands but a small smile on her face. “You can’t help what happened to you.” Her fingers twisted the bed sheets between them. “Just like how I couldn’t help what happened to me.”

“Marianne’s right, Flayn,” Dimitri looked towards each of them as he spoke, his voice kind and patient. “We couldn’t have known a teacher at the academy would try to hurt you or that an outsider would take one of our own. Neither of you should feel sorry. Everything turned out for the best, we saved both of you, and the professor is alive.” He turned to meet Byleth’s gaze, uncaring if devotion shined clear in his eyes. “I’m thankful just for that.”

Then Dorothea went and said, “I’d be thankful too if all I had to do to save the professor was kiss her on the neck. That’s what happened right? A kiss on the neck. But with teeth!”

A collective groan echoed amongst the designated crest-bearers with Annette trying to hide in Mercedes’ shawl again as the embarrassment became too much for her.

“Well there’s more to it than that.” Sylvain barked with laughter.

“You gotta be kidding me,” grumbled Felix in incredulity.

“_Dorothea_.” Ingrid moaned as she covered her face with both hands. “_No_. That is _not_ how I explained it to you for seiros sake.”

“Ooh you never swear, Ingrid. This _must_ be a big deal if everyone’s reacting like that. In fact, I feel like I’m the only one who doesn’t understand what’s going on. But then again Dedue here,” she patted the duscan on the shoulder, who proceeded to look rather uncomfortable, “doesn’t show it but I’m sure he’s also feeling a little lost about the whole situation. I mean, you’re all acting like this is a bigger deal than Dimitri sleeping with the professor!”

“Well just imagine if a girl of mine ended up with one of my crest bab—urgh!”

Ingrid had elbowed Sylvain in the stomach while promising murder in her glare.

“So biting the neck makes you _pregnant_?” Dorothea exclaimed.

Marianne gasped at the mage’s words and pulled the sheets over her face.

“For the love of seiros no!” Ingrid shouted back.

“Eep!” Flayn cried in surprise at the outburst, having never heard Ingrid shout like that before.

Dedue kept his eyes glued to Dimitri’s forehead but there was no denying the ruddy blush on his face.

Dimitri in turn pinched the bridge of his nose, a vein standing out on his head as he began losing patience for his ridiculous classmates.

“I’m afraid that’s not how it works.” Mercedes said in everlasting patience.

All heads in the room turned to hear her speak, but Annette carried on instead while being sheltered in layers of wool.

“It would take a long time to explain everything, but I can give you a summary,” she explained from her unorthodox position. “So some crest-bearers have a stronger affinity to the goddess’ gifts than others and end up like many of us in this room to include the professor. We’re naturally a little stronger or faster than those with regular crests. You’ve seen it, Dorothea, at Ailell.”

“How fangy all of you get, yes.” Dorothea nodded to which she received several scowls. “What? I’m sure that’s how the rest of us non-fangy people think of you. But, as I was saying, I’ve seen it but that doesn’t explain what the big deal is about this whole _bonding_ thing Ingrid keeps talking about.”

“It’s known as a bonding or mating bite,” Annette clarified. “It connects Dimitri’s magic permanently to the professor’s. It’s an amazing phenomenon and I’d love to study it after all this is over so we can learn more about how all this _works_ and—”

“Annette…” Mercedes chided.

“Oh right, sorry, I got off track,” the smaller mage blushed. “Well anyway, none of us are supposed to do something like that to each other until _after_ we’re engaged and then married—”

“Dimitri you _married the professor_?” exclaimed Dorothea.

“What!” yelped Ashe who then ducked his head in embarrassment when everyone turned to look at him. “Sorry I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I suspected it was something of that nature,” said Dedue in his methodical way, nodding. “It explains why his highness wouldn’t stop smiling this morning—”

“Dedue!” Dimitri snapped, an incredible blush dying his cheeks.

“Look at him, he’s redder than tomato!” Sylvain burst into laughter, hands grasping at his chest. “Our precious prince finally getting what he wants and he’s so excited he can’t even—”

“We’re getting off topic,” Dimitri growled, though a chuckle still trickled around the room at Sylvain’s words.

Even Byleth had to cover her mouth to hide her smile and when Dimitri looked to her she quickly dropped her hand and straightened her face into as neutral an expression as possible.

“Professor, I’m sorry. This was supposed to be your time to talk.”

“If you’re married, shouldn’t you be calling her baby?”

Dimitri reared back at the alpha like an enraged lion. “Oh for seiros— Everyone needs to understand that we’re not married! She’s still our professor and deserves to be treated as such. I will not stand for anything less than that. She’s guided us through the roughest of times, stepped in for all of us at some of our lowest points, and saved our lives many times over. The least we can do is quiet down and listen to what she has to say.”

Affection swelled Byleth’s heart to an impossible size at his words and, unable to keep the smile from showing this time, she whispered, “Thank you, Dimitri.”

The prince looked back at her only to stare, mesmerized by her smile. The blush came back in full force as Dimitri paused and then, in a much quieter voice, he said, “I’m only speaking the truth.” He looked away, embarrassed.

“I agree with him one hundred percent,” Ashe chimed in, his fists raised in support. “You were there for me, professor, when I was struggling with Lonato’s death and you helped root out the remainder of the perpetrators in the western church. I’ll go wherever you go.”

Then Dedue bowed as he added, “You engaged the men of duscur at my behest even when you had no reason to do so,” He gave the slightest lift of his lips, the equivalent to seeing him grin. “His highness also cares greatly for you so it would only be right for me to protect you as well.”

“I’m still grateful for the fiancé I didn’t have to marry,” Ingrid said, dispelling any doubts Byleth had from her earlier behavior. “I’m here for you, professor, don’t worry about me.”

“Hmph. You already know my thoughts on the matter.” Felix caught her gaze and held it. “Just keep leading me to the next battle and I’ll be content.”

“We’re here for you, as we always have been. Isn’t that right, Annette?” Mercedes asked, looking down.

“Yup!”

“I would still be in the dungeons below if it weren’t for you, professor,” said Flayn, her voice sweet and hands interlocked. “You fought a terrible foe to save me and then included me in every class I could attend. I will always remember you as my savior. Always.”

“I’m alive,” Marianne stated from below on the bed. “There is no greater blessing I could ask for.”

“You accepted me after the black eagles defected even when others did not.” Dorothea lowered her eyes, as if reliving a memory. But then she raised them soon after, her smile unaffected. “And I get to hang out with Ingrid aaaaall day! Yay!” She snatched her friend up in a raucous hug fraying Ingrid’s blonde hair.

“Ugh, Dorothea stop.” Ingrid complained, but her wide grin gave her away.

Sylvain, in typical fashion, leaned forward and said, “Now maybe you can tell us about how great the sex was—_argh_! Okay, okay, I’ll shut up!” He put his hands up in surrender. Felix had been the one to hit him this time. “Sorry, professor. I’m grateful for you too, even if I don’t show it all the time or if it looks like I’m messing around with you a little too much,” Sylvain grinned at the pointed look from Dimitri. “You helped me clear out Miklan’s band of thieves from Gautier land. I can’t forget something like that.”

“I…” Her eyes stung and Byleth found herself blinking away tears that had welled from the bottom of her lids, her throat thick. “Oh…” She touched a finger to her cheek and pulled away to see the wet surface.

A hush fell over the group as her students realized what was happening.

“I…” she tried again but the words failed to express themselves.

Gloved hands took hold of her own and she raised her head to see Dimitri’s gentle eyes. “You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t feel like it, professor. Everything you could’ve said to convince them, you’ve already done. So don’t feel like you have to hide anything anymore. _We_ don’t have to hide anything anymore.”

“Oh I can’t take this. Come here!” Dorothea pushed forward without warning with her arms stretched wide and brought almost all her classmates with her except Flayn who stepped forward of her own accord to join the unexpected group hug.

“Hay!”

“Wow…”

“Eeeep!”

“… you’re all so warm!”

Mercedes laughed in heartwarming delight.

The movement tucked Byleth into the cozy space of Dimitri’s chest, his hands releasing her own to slide around her, his heart beating so strong against her cheek. He had stiffened at first with the sudden inclusion of so many bodies and arms, but as the contact prolonged he relaxed and then curled around her body.

A hand touched the one she had resting against Dimitri’s hip and Byleth recognized the owner by the sleeve. Her hand closed around Marianne’s.

“Everyone…” She whispered, her mate’s inviting heat prevalent even amongst so many others. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Sylvain whispered back in jest, his own arms now spanning the majority of the group. Then she heard an, “Ow! What now—!”

“Sorry, Sylvain. I couldn’t resist.” Dorothea said.

“I can’t breathe!” Annette whined.

Mercedes giggled as Dorothea replied, “Oh shush, you’ll be fine.”

There was a sudden struggle and then Felix hissed, “Touch me again, Sylvain, and I will end you.”

“That wasn’t me!”

“Sorry!” Flayn cried.

Finally, Byleth couldn’t hold it in anymore and the first peal of laughter left her throat and the group fell silent, none of them expecting to hear her laugh first.

Then Mercedes started giggling and before long Ingrid joined in, her shoulders shaking several of the people around her. Then Sylvain and then Ashe. Byleth even heard a snort that might’ve come from Felix.

Dimitri rested his nose in her hair as he ran his hands along her waist and hips in an adoration that thrummed along their bond.

Then just as their laughter grew loudest from their combined clamoring and jostling, the doors to the infirmary burst open and a chorus of whoops and shouts flooded the room. Every last member of the golden deer had invaded the gathering with Manuela sweeping in alongside them ready to conduct another check-up and under orders for re-wrapping bandages.

All hell proceeded to break loose.

* * *

“Professor, wait.”

Byleth had been about to cross the threshold to Hanneman’s office when she realized that Ingrid had followed her.

“Yes?”

The commotion had died down some time ago and students had left in twos and threes until only a few remained to include Ingrid. Dimitri himself had departed for the knight’s hall with Felix and Sylvain. His form had been lackluster lately, he told her, and needed more work.

“I wanted to know…” The uneasiness was back in her bearing. “Did Professor Seteth… give you any trouble?”

Byleth shook her head. “It wasn’t a big deal.” But the image of a flushed and angry face came to mind with vividness.

Ingrid saw past the initial meaning in Byleth’s words and she glared in the direction of the audience chamber. “I _knew it_.”

Byleth began piecing together the implications. “Did something happen?” she asked.

“No.” Then Ingrid paused mid-shake of her head. “Well… last night… it was his battalion on duty and during an inspection of the night-watch he found me watching the perimeter. I didn’t want information to pass through unofficial channels so I just told him that everyone returned safe and sound. I was just to make sure we hadn’t been followed.” She began wringing her hands. “That should have been the end of that but then I ran into him again on my way back to my room and I was so upset and Dimitri had been acting _stubborn_…”

All of a sudden Byleth remembered the conversation Dimitri had outside the infirmary. Something had affected him, made the bond tremble, and now it all started making sense.

“And by then Sylvain had already told me about what happened between the two of you so I told Professor Seteth when he asked what was wrong that a friend of mine was being irresponsible but that’s _all_ I said, professor. That all I said. But then he suddenly had this look on his face like he knew exactly what was going on. I don’t know what he figured out without any specifics, but I just wanted to say that if he did give you a hard time because of me then I’m sorry.”

The information about Seteth should have concerned her, but Byleth only had thoughts for someone else. She placed a hand over Ingrid’s restless ones. “You did nothing wrong, but I want to know,” she gave them an encouraging squeeze. “What did you mean by a friend being irresponsible?”

Apprehension and relief mixed in Ingrid’s face as she looked at their joined hands for a long time before raising her head.

“I tried to talking to him…” And began to explain.

* * *

Book had been strewn all over the office floor by the time Byleth found what she was looking for.

In her hours of searching, Hanneman had yet to return, but the professor’s absence rested in the back of Byleth’s mind as she held up the desired book in her hands. She stared, and then stared some more at the cover. An embossed title gleamed up at her with gold leafed lettering.

This was the one.

She thumbed the cover to flip it open to a creamy first page and excitement had bloomed in her belly when all of a sudden she had the strongest feeling of being watched.

Then a blur of movement came from the entrance headed straight for her head. Byleth whipped up her hand before her mind could process what it was and seized the object out of the air. Wood slapped against her skin and Byleth recognized the design on the dagger right away. An engraving of a well-known crest and a weapon Byleth already had thrown at her before.

Byleth sighed, placing the dagger and book on the floor before turning, in clear irritation, towards the culprit.

“Nice catch. A hundred times better than last time!” Catherine praised her, relaxed against the entryway. “Maybe I should change it to something more substantial next time…”

Byleth rose to her feet and even with the distance between them she had to tilt her head to look the alpha in the eye. The only alpha amongst the faculty, in fact, based on what Seteth had mentioned before. “Catherine, that’s even more dangerous. What are you thinking?”

“What am I thinking?” The famous swordsman moved and the next thing Byleth knew the woman was very much in her personal space grinning wide with keen interest. “I’m thinking about how much you continue to surprise me.” Catherine tilted her head and her nostrils flared as she took in the unique smell consisting of both Byleth and her mate. “And you’ve been busy! Especially_ last night_.”

Byleth coughed into her hand to hide her shock as Catherine only looked more gleeful.

“Your scents are everywhere in that hallway you know that? Especially yours.” Catherine jabbed a thumb over her shoulder, her tone nonchalant though her eyes glittered with meaning. “It’s dangerous to release scents like that without a complete mating.”

Again the same warning that had driven Byleth to almost empty Hanneman’s shelves in her fervor to find the answers.

_‘The bond needs to be completed. I don’t know why but you’re supposed to. Incomplete bonds…’_

Ingrid meant well though her words still left questions behind. Catherine on the other hand… “You mean other alphas might take advantage of me.” Byleth stated, maintaining eye contact. “Does that include you too?”

Byleth stuck out her chin in open challenge to the other woman, her gaze unyielding.

Catherine stared for a few seconds and the air grew tense. Like the pause before the predator sprang for the neck of its prey. Then she threw back her head and roared in laughter.

“I’m not worried about _you_. Give you any trouble and you could send an errant alpha packing. But your mate on the other hand… let’s just say you should wait a while before seeing him.” Catherine showed teeth in her grin. Then she sobered. “On a more serious note keep an eye out for him. It’s not good to prolong a mating.”

Byleth felt something drop in her stomach at the ominous statement. “What do you mean?”

The knight raised a brow. “I guess you really are brand new at this. I’m sure there are consequences listed somewhere in these books you have scattered everywhere, but the way many have been taught is that it’s tradition more than anything else. Mating occurs at the tail end of a marriage and even if one were to remain unmated it’s often the omega.” Catherine’s eyes narrowed. “Though those situations are usually the result of a forced union. It’s rare for the alpha to mate first. That boy must have cared for you greatly to do such a thing.”

Tradition. The reasoning wasn’t sound, Byleth decided. There had to be something more to it. The book she found might explain.

“Do you love him?”

“What?” Byleth snapped her head up at the sudden question.

“I said, do you love him?”

Byleth stood frozen before the alpha. Had the knight seen something the others hadn’t? Was the truth in her scent? How many others had figured it out just by being near her?

“Alright, the look on your face really answers that question. Rhea does her best to hide it, but I can tell she’s been restless all morning about something and it wouldn’t surprise me if that something was you. It’s almost always about you.” Catherine shrugged her shoulders. “Ah well, what can you do about it? But in my opinion seeing how you feel about him you should just mate the boy and be done with it. Consequences or no, it takes care of any back and forth between you two and ensures that neither of you can be influenced by other designated crest-bearers. But that’s only if you feel my opinion is worth anything. Just know I’m speaking with you and the kid’s best interests at heart because, contrary to how I first came off, I really do like you. You definitely are interesting to watch.”

Byleth said nothing, though she nodded in acknowledgement. Catherine’s words had reason. Yet it didn’t address the heart of the issue. If what Dimitri said was true, no bond could truly be equal for an omega as compulsion would always leave a possibility for exploitation.

“Ahh, you want me to leave. I get it.” Catherine smiled without taking offense and stepped back.

Byleth almost breathed a sigh of relief. It _had_ been getting a little crowded with her so close.

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Thanks.” Byleth said, tone dry enough to make the knight laugh again.

Catherine was almost to the door when she flicked out a small wedge-like stone and Byleth had to squint before she recognized what it was. “By the way, thanks again for the whetstone. Shamir’s been mad as a bat since you picked me to give it to.”

Byleth smirked. “You would’ve taken it from her anyway if I hadn’t.”

“True.” The alpha nodded, then after looking at Byleth a while longer, she winked. “Be seeing you.”

Then Byleth was alone again in the room.

She looked down at the unassuming book at her feet, fingers itching to crack open the cover. Perhaps Catherine had a point. Although omegas had many reasons to be wary of alphas, this was Dimitri they were talking about.

So she needed to know. Had to know.

Byleth bent down and picked up the book, flipping it open to the page she last remembered seeing the passage, and began to read.

* * *

Dimitri had been in the middle of removing his outerwear when she dashed into his room, her cape billowing behind her.

The sallow skin, the almost blackened eyes. How deep he had slept this morning. So deep he seemed to be drowning…

“You’ve been hiding it from me.” Her voice came out accusing, laced with the frustration running through her body.

The prince lowered his armored plating to the floor. His muscles still shaped the clothes underneath, but he looked thinner than before, yet not enough for any warning signs. Byleth supposed

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, tight-lipped. Defensive.

“_Dimitri_.” Byleth walked up to him, closing the door behind her before she did. She placed her hands alongside his face. “The bond…” His lips had cracked despite her certainty that he drank enough water to prevent that from happening. “It’s been taking your strength. I should’ve recognized this earlier. The bursts of power during yesterday’s battle, how you still look like you do even after a full night’s sleep.”

“I don’t know… what you’re talking about.” The alpha growled and tried to look away to hide the fangs that had elongated in his growing frustration but Byleth held him in place. He wrapped a bare hand around her own, he had taken off the gloves, in an effort to tug it away from him. “Please, professor, just leave it alone. We’ve already been over this.”

“I can’t do that, Dimitri. Not when it’s your life at stake.”

“I’m not dying, professor, just tired.”

“So you admit it.”

“I’m not admitting to anything. These recent events have… taken a toll on me.”

“Don’t lie to me, Dimitri. The exhaustion you’ve been feeling must have increased by several fold since the mating. I see it in your face.”

“And that’s all it is.” He growled again, pulling away from her completely this time. “Exhaustion, not any danger to my life.”

“But it can become one. What if you’re attacked while you’re weak like this?” For the first time in a conversation with Dimitri she felt her own blood rising, face beginning to flush. She never argued with Dimitri like this. Ever.

“Then we deal with it when the time comes.” He ground out, turning his body sideways, refusing to speak more on the matter.

“Have you always been this stubborn?” Byleth demanded, the question slipping out before she could take it back.

“Have you always been this pushy?” Dimitri snapped in reply.

Byleth flinched at his tone and her mate balked when he saw her reaction.

For an instant Byleth wanted to laugh. They were having their first argument. When was the last time she had been so confrontational? Out of all the people in the monastery, Dimitri seemed to be the only one who could bring her to this point.

She crossed her arms and looked away, not trusting herself to have anything good to say nor wanting to walk away completely.

Their connection felt like a taut string, their shared discomfort stretching for a long minute.

Then Dimitri sagged, as if losing air, and came towards her with arms outstretched. He pulled her in for a tentative hug and when she didn’t resist he rested his nose in her hair like he had earlier today.

He sighed. “I don’t know what’s got into me today. I’m sorry. I told everyone to treat you with respect today and here I am acting like this towards you.”

Byleth thought of the warning Catherine gave her some time ago and hugged Dimitri back, reassuring him. She had a feeling the knight’s scent might have rubbed off on her, agitating her mate to a greater extent. Some of her own anger still simmered in her chest and Byleth wondered if the aftermath of such a powerful emotion felt that way to everyone.

“Please believe me,” he whispered into her hair, his hands holding her close. “I’m not dying and last night’s sleep did help. It helped a lot. And I’d like you to stay here again tonight if possible.”

Byleth pulled him tighter against her. She wished she could keep holding him like this forever. “Alright.” She nodded against him. “I will.”

Byleth felt him breathe in to say something else when the doors burst open a second time.

She would have startled away from Dimitri if he hadn’t kept his arms secure around her. His mindset seemed to be that, with their secret revealed, there was no need to hide their relationship anymore.

“It’s late, Claude. What’s going on?” Dimitri demanded.

“Dimitri, professor.” The look on his face was concerning in its seriousness.

Any other time Claude would have commented on their positioning or made a joke about where Dimitri had his hands. But whatever was on his mind must have driven out any such thoughts because all he could do was shake his head and say,

“We’ve got a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! We're getting close to the end of part I. About time! Am I right?
> 
> Anyway, I wanted to end this chapter with an invitation to all my readers:
> 
> https://discord.gg/VvYunK5
> 
> If you love Byleth and Dimitri or the blue lions in general and want to talk about how amazing they are with other people, feel free to join this server. It's alive and kicking and we are very welcoming of newcomers. 
> 
> Until next time!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

Dawn arrived over the peaks surrounding Garreg Mach with a veritable retinue of soldiers and mercenaries bearing the yellow, off-white of the Alliance and, intermixed in those colors, the standard for the Gloucester house.

Count Gloucester, its leader and a man known for his ambition within the alliance, had swept on to monastery grounds with little fanfare despite the sizeable forces at his heel. An escort he had deemed necessary due to the current political climate.

The sun now hovered in wholesome glory above the monastery, hours past the count’s actual arrival time and the light both blinded and warmed Byleth’s face as she made her way to the meeting that must be taking place at this very moment. She strode past workers and soldiers alike with such haste that all they saw of her was the sudden flash of her cape before a cloud of dust left them all coughing.

There had been no sign of Claude or Dimitri—who had risen before her and decided to leave her in bed— since the night before. Byleth could only conclude that they had gone ahead to see the archbishop in preparation to receive the count. The man had undergone a dangerous journey to discuss an important matter.

Byleth worried at her lip.

Another mole appeared to have infiltrated the monastery ranks. One that Claude discovered— much to his dismay— had leaked tailored information to the count. The mole had intercepted one of Lorenz’s missives and altered it, creating a mess of rumor and truth regarding the church and its intentions. As well as an unannounced bond formed between two political entities.

The missive had blurred the line between circumstance and intent.

Byleth was almost at the stairs when— almost tripping in her surprise— she glimpsed the count himself dressed in unique armored merchant’s clothes looking irritated, recognizable to her only because a harried-looking Lorenz trailed him. He followed him so close he almost tread on his father’s heels. They disappeared around the corner that would bring them to the second floor and then to the chamber where Rhea awaited them. The count must have arrived as Claude predicted by early morning but had been kept waiting until now.

Disbelieving her luck, Byleth hurried after them.

* * *

Thin and prim with an aquiline nose and dark hair, the count appeared to be in a foul mood and had the air of one intent on getting his way.

Byleth took the chance to peer through the crack in the double doors at the scene.

Backs toward her, the house leaders flanked the count behind and beside him as Lorenz stood apart from his classmates at his father’s side. Meanwhile, Rhea and Seteth awaited Count Gloucester’s next words at their customary place in the center of the room with neutral expressions.

“Don’t do this, father,” Lorenz pleaded in a low whisper. Even from this distance Byleth could see the minute clenching of his jaw and hands as he spoke. “It’s all just a misunderstanding.” His shoulders so stiff they almost looked to be shaking. “There’s nothing to be concerned about.” Despite his attempts to keep quiet, however, his voice still carried to where Byleth could hear.

Claude had his hand at his hip in a casual fashion, but the light tapping in his foot gave away his impatience at seeing the results of his plans gone awry; Dimitri, looking thinner from behind than she remembered— the sight squeezing her chest in worry— watched the count with shoulders tense like Lorenz. The tumultuous edges in his emotions snapped at the bond.

Byleth placed her hand against the door, preparing to enter. She wanted to see Dimitri’s face. As she slipped into the room and shut it behind her without a sound, Count Gloucester ignored his pleading son and turned to address the holy woman.

“Archbishop,” Count Gloucester began.

Seteth glanced at her, but otherwise gave no other acknowledgement of her entry and Rhea did the same. Byleth came forward until she could hear every word with clarity, stopping just shy of passing Claude. Dimitri still hadn’t noticed her while the alliance heir spied her from the corner of his eye. He nodded but didn’t smile. His lips were pressed into a flat line.

The count’s voice reverberated in the chamber. Proud and charismatic despite his appearance, Byleth began to understand where his son learned to have pride in the nobility. “I have worshipped the goddess all my life and supported the church in its endeavors. Part of that support comes from the belief that the church has always been a neutral force in Fodlan, intent on maintaining balance. However, recently it has come to my attention that _royalty_,” he shifted his gaze now to Dimitri, something more akin to a glare than anything else.

The look drew a writhing reaction in Byleth’s chest, enough to make her wince.

“Royalty from the Kingdom— the heir apparent— has bound themselves to a member of your faculty. What message is the church trying to send?” He took a step forward in his indignance and Lorenz had to place a warning hand on his father’s shoulder. The count obliged and went no further, though it did not lessen the impact of his words. “_What is the meaning of this_?”

“There is no message.” Seteth said without hesitation. He spoke with calm authority as befitted a holy man of his station and with a confidence that Byleth admired him for having towards the current situation.

It gave her hope that this problem could still be mended somehow.

“I don’t know how you came about that information, but the timing could not be more suspicious that it should happen so close to the empire’s attack.”

Seteth’s manner mollified the nobleman enough for him to retreat a step. He sighed. “Yes,” the count admitted. “That is suspicious. But that does not change the fact that this incident happened behind closed doors at such a critical moment in our coalition.”

“A critical moment?” Rhea deigned to speak and all eyes turned to her. The words by themselves sounded innocent enough but not to the archbishop it seemed. “For yourself or the coalition as a whole? We have been under the impression that you, as a member of the Leicester Alliance,” her eyes flickered to Claude and then back. “Have already decided on your allegiance to our combined cause for the empire— led by that wicked child—” Dimitri flinched at the mere mention. “Will not stand for any region to remain independent of its corrupt reign. You will either be conquered or you fight back. Or are you considering other means of handling your own situation?”

“The critical moment I speak of,” the count flushed, whether in embarrassment at being asked such a question or annoyance Byleth couldn’t tell, “is in regards to the turning point for all of Fodlan. Once the empire takes its next step and soldiers are positioned on ground, allegiances will be determined. I am most definitely considering my situation in the grand picture as is every other noble worth their salt. That does not mean my concern is unfounded.”

“And what will your allegiance be in the end, Count Gloucester?” Rhea asked, unmoved by his words. “Is the incident you described an excuse to defy the will of the goddess and turn against your allies?” Unyielding as the force with which she swung her blade, Rhea cut right to the heart.

The count flushed an even deeper shade as he failed to restrain his hands and they clenched into fists.

“Father…”

His son’s voice seemed to wake him from his brief anger. “Quiet, Lorenz,” he bade him, relaxing a hand to wave him aside. “Let me speak.” The young noble fell into a furious silence as the count’s eyes never left Rhea. “It is not an excuse, archbishop,” he continued. Then the count sank into a low bow, one so deep it bordered disrespect.

Seteth must have made a similar distinction because rage brewed in his features like the onset of a sudden storm, but dissipated by the time the nobleman stood straight.

“My apologies if I gave that impression. I am merely… concerned.”

Rhea tilted her head in acknowledgement, choosing to disregard the potential slight. “Be assured, count. There is no meaning behind the events that should concern you. The goddess would be pleased to have your continued investment in our cause.”

“Still,” The count said, hesitant. He seemed unwilling to let the matter end there. “It is difficult to feel assured when there exists such a bond. How can you know that it won’t be abused by the—”

“The bond hasn’t been reciprocated.” Dimitri interjected and the noble looked his way as if affronted that the prince should speak.

Byleth jolted at her sudden relevance in the conversation. Her chest, already so full from Dimitri’s inner rage, spilled over with a bitter touch. Today for some reason she could feel his emotions more distinctly through the bond.

“And I know full well the consequences if it is.”

Dimitri looked, for a moment, as if he were swaying and Byleth’s heart leaped into her throat. Something was wrong. She almost stepped forward to hold him steady until he continued speaking, voice firm despite the weakness she sensed in his body.

“I’ll make sure that it never happens.”

“Dimitri…”

Byleth turned towards Rhea, shocked that she said his name aloud. The archbishop was looking at him in concern…

“Brave words for an act that is inevitable.” The duke sniffed. “Even if you did prevent such a thing from happening, do you understand the instability such a proposition would bring?” He eyed Dimitri’s feet. He seemed to have noticed the unsteadiness as well. “To a crest-bearer such as yourself that is. In addition, there is no guarantee your partner won’t try to manipulate you for their own gain—”

“That’s not possible,” The prince all but growled, his bangs now covering his face so that no one in the room could read him, except Byleth who shared that precious connection with him. Then he raised his head and—from this angle she could only see the tips of his blonde lashes—the count flinched. “They would never do something like that and you would do well to remember.”

The count’s expression twisted in resentment as he opened his mouth to retort until—

“That’s enough.” Seteth intervened, his words dispelling the agitation in the air. “There is no reason to involve the archbishop much longer. If you are still dissatisfied, you may join me elsewhere to continue this discussion.”

The count’s gaze lingered on Dimitri as if deciding whether defying the church’s second in command would be worth it before he turned away in reluctance. “No, that isn’t necessary. What’s done is done and as you said, archbishop, there is no greater meaning behind the matter. I thank you for your time.” He looked anything but thankful.

That was when Byleth noticed a redness trickling from Lorenz’s bottom lip. To keep from disrupting his father, he had bitten down hard enough to draw blood.

Unaware of his son’s frustration or simply ignoring it, the count turned and Lorenz had no choice but to follow.

Count Gloucester gave Byleth a passing glance as he walked by while his son widened his eyes in surprise. Despite his bluster, the nobleman hadn’t known who Dimitri had bonded to, which amused Byleth to no end as he proceeded to march past without looking back. Lorenz mustered as apologetic a look as he could before nodding and escorting his father to the door.

Then they both departed the chamber.

“Phew!” Claude broke the silence first, placing a hand on his head. “That’s a first. For once I had nothing but ridiculous things to say to our wonderful count. Sorry about that, your holiness, Professor Seteth. Who knew the enemy would get ahold of Lorenz’s letters like that?”

“Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous.” Seteth muttered under his breath at no one in particular.

“What do you think, Dimitri? I bet you hated him.”

“Yeah… I…” Dimitri turned towards them for the first time since Byleth entered the room and she gave a start.

“Dimitri… you look….” She began walking towards her alpha as she took in his appearance. “Terrible…” she concluded and reached out to try touching his face. His skin today looked pale-white tinged with an ominous grey. He had deep bruising beneath both eyes. “It’s even worse than before.”

“You know, I was thinking that as well.” Claude added. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“Enough, Claude. That’s enough.” Dimitri said. He closed his eyes, frustration lacing his brows. “There’s nothing wrong. Professor, you… you all don’t know what you’re talking abou…”

Then, before Byleth could catch him, Dimitri’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he pitched forward.

Crumpling to the floor.

* * *

Byleth visited Rhea one last time after coming to a decision.

After a day’s deliberation, the answer was clear. Now she only wished she had come to one sooner.

Rhea gave a helpless laugh as Byleth stood at the entryway to her office, fist leaning against the door. “I suppose you’ve made up your mind.” she whispered, voice so soft that Byleth almost didn’t hear her. The older woman kept her gaze on the marbled floor. As if she couldn’t bear to look her way.

“Yes,” Byleth replied. “There’s only one thing left to do.”

“I see…”

She waited for a reaction, any reaction. The worst possible thing in Rhea’s eyes was coming to pass and Byleth had given her advance warning of her intentions. She waited and waited for Rhea to do something other than hold her hands together in that unreadable stance and keep her eyes on the ground. She couldn’t tell if the signs could be taken as tacit approval or wordless rejection. But, after no further movement, Byleth turned to leave.

Until the calm mask slipped.

The air chilled and Byleth halted mid-step. A coldness raised the hairs on her forearms and neck and stiffened the bones in her body. “Rhea…?” She called out, but received no response and Byleth hesitated. She was almost afraid to turn back. Almost.

Then Byleth steeled herself. The confrontation regarding her mating had been long expected and until they finally addressed the matter at hand they would forever dance around the topic for the rest of time. Byleth turned and raised her head to look at Rhea.

And flinched.

Rhea appeared to _rise_ before her, though her feet never left the ground. Growing, her very being swallowing the warmth in the room as she grew to become an unrecognizable figure looming over everything in the room. She began to burn with an awesome, terrible anger. Consuming everything in its path, a blazing fire branding her eyes. Byleth had the sudden feeling that Rhea possessed a power much greater than the deft swordsmanship she had demonstrated up until now.

A power that could soar to legendary heights.

A lesser person would have cowered, but the divinity in Byleth’s veins and history with wandering beasts bolstered her legs even in the face of such otherworldliness. The image failed to shake her even as Rhea’s countenance filled her with a sense of amazement and fear; it failed to intimidate her.

“_Rhea_…” Byleth said, her voice filled with warning. In complete disregard for the consequences, Byleth stepped forward towards the archbishop’s overwhelming presence. “Rhea please.” She reached out, not knowing what would happen next, and grasped the elegant clasped hands between her own. “Rhea,” she said again, squeezing, hoping to express her sincerity and resolve to the other woman. “If I don’t mate with him in return, he will die.”

The fearsome visage continued to last, white fangs visible in the twist of Rhea’s lips, pupils wild. Doubt flickered through her and Byleth began wondering if she had gone too far this time when, as if someone had cut off the source, the overpowering energy in Rhea dimmed to the equivalent of a low simmer. The danger passed as heat returned to the room and Rhea returned to her old self.

Byleth sighed in relief.

It was a long time before either of them spoke again.

“I knew…” Rhea began, then paused so she could place a hand on top the one holding hers. “I knew you would make this decision in the end, but I… I still feel deeply against it. I have forgotten what helplessness feels like.”

“That was helplessness?” Byleth couldn’t help asking.

“And anger,” Rhea admitted. “That things have come to this. I was very angry.”

Byleth nodded, glad the older woman acknowledged her outburst. Rhea had doused her anger because she knew Byleth to be right. A question came to mind all of a sudden. “Did you know?” She asked.

“Byleth?”

She tightened her grip on Rhea’s hand. “Did you know this would happen?”

Rhea’s eyes flickered away and then back again, which was all the answer Byleth needed, before replying, “I had a suspicion…”

“Looking back, it makes sense.” She had to tamp down her frustration at the obvious hindsight. “He’s been fueling the powers of a goddess since mating me.”

“Yes, looking back, it does.” Rhea gave a small bow. “But there is no more time to lose. Your mate needs you, regardless of how I feel. This we both know now.”

Byleth nodded, then turned towards the door— slipping out of Rhea’s hands with nothing left to say— when the archbishop called out to her one last time.

“Wait.” Rhea caught her by the shoulder and motioned for her to look back. “Wait… there is something I must tell you. Something I must teach you.”

“Teach…?”

“Yes. But you must never reveal what I’m about to show you to anyone else unless absolutely necessary and especially not another alpha.” Rhea’s tone intrigued her.

“What is it?” She asked.

“There is way…” Rhea pulled her in close, so close her breath touched her ear. “A way that you can…”

Then the archbishop continued whispering her secret. A secret that rattled Byleth’s heart as she listened, unable to believe that such a thing could be done, hoping that such a thing would never _have_ to be done.

They both knew, however, that such hopes might be impossible.

* * *

Light from the hallway illuminated a form amidst the sheets that stirred softly before going still as Byleth stepped through the door that brought her into Dimitri’s room.

Byleth’s hand rose to adjust a clasp at her neck holding a blue cloak together on her body.

Her heart hurt to look at him.

Byleth shut the door behind her, cutting off the light. The night had settled and the closed door drowned the room in darkness once again. Silence reigned and her heart pounded a rhythm through her clothes.

Disorganized thoughts danced in and out of her head in the absence of sound. She had been the one to do this him, came the loudest thought. She had to take responsibility.

Then the figure in the bed stirred again from beneath the sheets and a voice rasped out, “What are you doing in here?”

Byleth refrained from answering him, instead picking her way through the dark to find the nearest candelabra, the one on his desk, and ignited each of the flames with a spark from her finger. The fire bathed the room in a flickering warm orange, revealing the prince now sitting up in bed with only a cloth shirt hanging off him in an unfamiliar way. Blankets covered his legs and the angles of his face looked sharper than before.

The divinity in Byleth’s veins had been draining him at an alarming rate.

“Don’t come any closer,” and it wasn’t until Dimitri spoke that Byleth realized she had been stepping towards him, so horrified at his appearance that she could think of nothing but what needed to happen next. “Even if you made up your mind, I will not compromise you, professor.”

Byleth fought not to shout. “You’re dying, Dimitri,” she managed to keep her voice even. Calm. “This isn’t about compromising anyone.” She continued her approach as she spoke, eyes never leaving his. They seemed glazed. “This is about saving your life.”

“I said… _don’t_—” But he cut off once she sat at the edge of his bed, her palm resting over his hand. “Professor, listen to me. The count, he won’t stand for this—”

“Claude says his choice has already been made. It won’t matter what you and I do.”

“So the reinforcements…” Dimitri growled.

“Won’t be there.” Byleth finished his sentence while stroking the back of his hand.  
Dimitri wrenched his head away and his shoulders shook as their connection shuddered with the force of his anger. “Then what was the point… of that meeting… if he is just going to do as he pleases.”

“A farce. Nothing more.” Byleth answered. She switched to stroking his hairline, her other hand playing at her clasp again, the metal cold against her skin.

Then Dimitri turned without warning to pin her with an intense gaze. His hand twitched beneath hers as if he had refrained from reaching for her. “Do you know what it means to mate me, professor?”

Not expecting the change in topic, Byleth paused in her movements. Her throat felt dry all of a sudden.

Dimitri asked her again, this time pupils sharpening. “Do you know what it means for you and I?”

His words hung in the air even as the beginnings of an answer already began forming inside her head. Something akin to marriage as Annette had explained. They both knew this yet he seemed to be waiting for her to say it aloud. Or confirm something for him. Heat rose in her cheeks at the thought. She had already done so much to feel self-conscious about yet the thought of marriage when Byleth still needed to profess her true feelings left her feeling just as embarrassed and unbalanced.

Then Dimitri did reach for her and his calloused palm enveloped her own to hold her in place. “It means you’d be _mine_, professor.” Something feral gleamed in his eye as he held her, his grip tight. Possessive. “You would know only my scent and I yours. I’d be part of you and inside you so that no one can mistake you for someone else’s. And your first heat and every heat after that…” his voice pitched low like it had during their first time together, tightening Byleth’s throat, curling a sympathetic heat in her belly. “They would all belong to me.”

She trembled at the need in his voice, the heady selfishness behind his words. That they had arrived at this point in which Byleth had become such a desirable being to the prince of an entire kingdom. It both worried and aroused her.

It was time.

Byleth stroked the rough skin along his palm, dragging her thumb slow and firm against him before following a line down to the raised skin at his wrist. Dimitri’s next breath was shaky and anticipating. She shivered at the growing hunger inside him as she whispered, “I read that you need stimulation for there to be no pain,” Her blush threatened to overtake her face, but she continued touching him with an intent that was undeniable.

She traced back and forth along the gland and her actions drew out the inviting sweet cinnamon that always precipitated every act of sex they had ever shared.

His breaths were coming in a little faster, harsher, and Byleth knew it was only a matter of time before desire overcame his careful restraint and weakness. She could smell how much he wanted her, feel the yearning in their bond. For a prince that had to maintain a certain bearing for his people, he carried such strong emotions. Byleth could only imagine she felt a tenth of what actually went on inside of him.

“Your bite was almost unnoticeable for me, but I think it was because of the pain from my wounds.” The she moved before her nerves got the better of her and straddled him above his knees.

“Professor…!” Dimitri gave a startled choke.

He caught her at the hips as she hovered over the warmest part of him beneath the sheets, her core already leaking, even beginning to pulse inside of her. He could smell her readiness for him and he shivered beneath her again as he dug his fingers into her cloak, one hand now grasped possessively on her thigh, the other framing her ass. His cock thickened and rose without being touched and ghosted over the glands that would invite him into the warm, slick part of her awaiting him.

“I’m yours, Dimitri,” Byleth whispered to him. She pushed at the opening in his shirt, hinting for him to remove it.

Overcome with lust and surprise, Dimitri obliged without a word, sliding the shirt off an arm at a time so that he always had a hand on her body, exposing the reduced musculature in his frame. Concern for him might distracted her from her pleasure but then Byleth saw the maddening desire he had for her with eyes only for the singing heat between her legs and relaxed. In his excitement, his weakened state had been all but forgotten.

“You don’t… you don’t know,” he gasped. “How much I’ve been wanting to hear you say that.”

His thick longing saturated the bond and Byleth smiled. “I think I do.” She whispered. Then she slipped a finger under the latch hidden in the clasp’s innocuous design.

“Professor, w-wait.” With the last shred of his sanity Dimitri gazed up at her, eyes beseeching, begging. “Wait…” For her to stop or go on the message remained blurry and confusing as his fangs peered out from colorless lips. The last of his blood had gone to the part of him that needed only a single thrust to bury itself inside her warm space and bring them together as one. “_Professor_…” His fingers dug possessively into her flesh even as the words struggled to pass his lips.

“I want you to have me,” Byleth said. He held her impossibly tighter upon hearing her words. “Dimitri.” She kissed the bruising under his eye. “I want you to have it all.” She pressed her finger harder into the latch. “So don’t hold back.”

Then she undid the clasp and the cloak fell away revealing her bare shoulders and breasts, her waist and stomach, the soaking space between her legs.

His careful control shattered and Dimitri tore the remainder of the cloak away from her body before reaching down to free himself and ripping the fabric in his excitement. He pressed his face into her breasts, her arms embracing him as he did, his fangs scraping against her skin and drawing out a pleased noise from her throat that sent a responding growl vibrating through his chest. He poised himself at the source of her flowing slick and pulsing warmth.

“I need you…” He whispered against her. “More than anything else.” He was desperate to be inside her. To be part of her. “With this… your future is with me.”

Then Dimitri pulled her on to him, nesting his cock within her tight walls as Byleth cried at the sudden pleasure between her legs, and he began taking everything she had to give.

He was ready for her now, Byleth thought as Dimitri continued to make love to her from below.

His exhaustion meant his complete arousal would take much longer than normal to accomplish and Byleth could feel the resulting punishment on her cunt from his repeated, taking thrusts. She didn’t mind. Didn’t mind at all. She hoped she would wake up sore tomorrow, a proof of how much he had desired her.

His mouth was hot on her breast. Neither sucking nor biting, preoccupied as he was with fucking her. He had his arms wrapped around her tight enough to bruise, trapping her in, as he had her.

“Dimitri…” Byleth reached down to caress his hair—sweat sticking the strands together— and gain his attention but the alpha continued to bury himself inside her welcoming heat, his mind given way to baser instincts. The desire to enter her. Stir her insides. To become indistinguishable between their bodies.

“Dimitri.” She said a little louder and then brought her head down to kiss the upper half of his forehead. The movement unlatched him from her breast and though Byleth missed the feel of him there she finally got him to respond.

His thrusts slowed and Byleth began trailing her lips down from his forehead to his cheek, then his neck, and finally the gland at the base of his neck—the source of his arousing scent— closer towards his back. The same location as her own. She drew her tongue slow over the raised skin and Dimitri ceased to move, coming to a shuddering halt as every sense in his body honed in on the sensation of her mouth on his most intimate place.

She marveled at the lust he held for her even with their uneven bond draining him of strength. His tongue had felt so good against her breast that maybe one day when things had settled down and they could have something resembling peace Byleth could ask him to do it again. Except next time with more teeth and more pressure.

“Don’t do it while I’m inside, professor.” He gasped, adjusting her hips so that his still erect length could slip out of her. “I’ll come inside you if you do.”

“Alright,” Byleth conceded, speaking against his gland. “But should I…?” The words wouldn’t come so easily so she brought a hand down to his cock instead and grasped him between her fingers.

He jolted beneath her, letting out another strangled gasp as she closed her hand around him. He was wet against her palm and when she passed her thumb over the tip she could feel him leaking out the slit. His fingers dug into her again leaving her with another fresh set of bruises.

“I’ve never… touched you like this before, on the skin like this. You feel so…” Byleth gave an experimental stroke of his cock and Dimitri _whimpered_, his appreciation of her ministrations catching hard in his throat.

“Oh seiros, I’ll come if you keep doing that.” His voice desperate with lust. “With or without your bite. Oh gods…”

That Dimitri would call out to other deities so blasphemously amused her. “Alright I’ll wait until afterwards. Do I… can I press down harder?”

He gave a wordless nod, silent from the burning desire translating to her through their connection.

Byleth positioned herself over him, her teeth skimming the gland, her free hand grasping his shoulder to hold him in place.

Dimitri found his voice again while she did so. “You’ll mine after this, professor,” he whispered. In his voice she could hear hesitation. But lurking beneath it she could also hear a boundless possession. That he also wanted it, like he had said. More than anything else. “No one else’s.”

Then Byleth pulled back and she felt him hold his breath, uncertainty spiking inside him. Complete with a complex mixture of relief and fear that she had changed her mind. “This is the only way to save you…” Byleth murmured, touching both hands to his cheeks so she could angle his face towards hers. “…and something I’ve been wanting too.” Then she kissed him full on the mouth, drawing his lip in past her teeth, tasting him, before letting go so she could return her fangs to his neck and bare her teeth over the gland.

Then bit down.

Byleth would never forget the taste when she broke the skin.

Rushing out as the magic left her, Dimitri’s essence stayed intact within her, that hollowed out space inside her just for him still present. Her own magic transferred to Dimitri when she completed the mating, creating a wholly new sense of completion within. Something that brought understanding to her mind on the true meaning of the word, of what it meant to be mated.

Equilibrium.

Giving didn’t feel the same as receiving, but when Dimitri gasped and crushed her against him as her magic passed into his body she could understand what he was experiencing. Taking his weeping erection in hand again she began stroking him as she reciprocated the bond and became bound to him.

His body wracked with shivers as the combined sensation of the bond and her hand overwhelmed him and he finally gave in. He gave one last snap of his hips, freezing up as the force of his release caught up with him and then, with endless, shuddering gasps, he spilled into her hand dripping and warm.

Byleth pulled away from his gland and when the blood flowed out of the wound she began cleaning it away by instinct with her tongue. Cinnamon and burnt oak filled her senses along with a hint of something else. Something unexpected, that she hadn’t witnessed before in his scent.

The scent of milk and honey, a mesh of aromas that suddenly brought to mind the goddess of all creation, the one Byleth had shared a mind with, to Sothis as if she were standing here in this very room. The scent of Sothis. The scent of a goddess. And, by no mere coincidence, a fragrance that now belonged to Byleth.

Dimitri smelled like her, notes of that fragrant honey overlapping with his usual smokiness. Like someone had been toasting a marshmallow. Byleth couldn’t hold back a giggle at the comparison.

Dimitri started at the sound and, when he pulled her back so their eyes could meet, the state of his complexion and body in the dim lighting gave Byleth a shock of her own.

Whether by magic or some trick of the bond, his weakened countenance had been wiped away. The gray pallor had been replaced by a healthier tone, his eyes looking back at her with a brighter energy, and muscles that no longer seemed smaller than they should.

His hands now resting on her thighs, he whispered, “I’ve never heard you laugh like that before…” He sounded in awe. “I hope you do that more often around me. Just like your…”

Affection blossomed inside her as she beheld him. A wonderful, steady kind of affection that cradled her heart in its familiarity and it wasn’t until Dimitri had begun to stare that Byleth realized he had trailed off before he could finish.

“What… what is it?” All of a sudden she began to feel incredibly shy. He was looking at her a certain way, one that made her feel very self-conscious.

As if he was seeing her for the first time.

“Is that…” Dimitri’s eyelashes fluttered as if he seemed to be coming to terms with something. “Is that how you feel about me?” He tensed beneath her, eyes beginning to glow with a rapid excitement, a large grin forming at the corners of his mouth. Byleth had the strongest feeling that he was about to do something unexpected.

“What…?” Then just as she predicted his hands grasped her hips as if he were about to lift her and she squealed—a sound Byleth didn’t ever think would leave her throat— and, in much the same manner as Dimitri had earlier, she cried, “W-wait!”

Moving faster than Byleth could blink he flipped her onto her back, his hips catching her between the legs as he caught her head before it could fall back into the mattress.

Byleth didn’t know why but she suddenly had her hands on her face, unable to look Dimitri in the eye as he propped himself above her with one hand next to her chest and the other still cupped under her head, fingers beginning to massage into her hair.

“Professor, look at me,” he said, a little breathless. “I want you to look at me.”

“No.” Byleth shook her head, her voice coming out almost petulant. She felt so strange inside. Like so many bubbles were building up and threatening to blow out if she showed her face.

She heard Dimitri chuckle. Then he moved the hand in her hair in a tracing motion along her body starting at her neck. Then down over her breasts and past her abdomen. Lightly so that the tips of his fingers tickled the skin on her belly. Then lower.

“Dimitri!” Byleth cried out, but she kept her hands planted over her eyes.

Those long fingers rested at the hairs on her sex, sending tingles of anticipation and pleasure along the glands further below. Her mate fell silent, as if observing her, curious for her next move.

Her chest rose and fell with an excitement that refused to dissipate. Then the truly unexpected happened.

“Byleth.”

Her hands flew off her face so fast she would have slammed one of them against the side of the bed if Dimitri hadn’t caught it.

“_Byleth_,” he said again, the sound of her name dropping in her ears as ardent and burning as the kiss he pressed into the palm of her hand. “… I think I should be allowed to call you that now.”

For an instant, the roles they played as teacher and student ceased to exist and the alpha above her watched her with a shared intimacy that transcended every boundary that ever existed between them. That rendered any broken proprieties completely pointless. He beheld her like any alpha mated to his omega, adoring, needing, heedlessly captivated.

Then a familiar bashfulness colored his expression and, with the lightest touch of uncertainty revealing his inexperience in these matters, he asked, “Can I, Byleth? Can I call you that from now on?”

Byleth beheld him for a long time, witnessing the endearing way her name brought the blush to his cheeks. Then she answered, “Yes.”

Happiness swirled through her, amplified by a mirrored emotion in Dimitri.

Dimitri sighed in relief as he let go of her hand, bringing it back down below her stomach. “Good,” he said. “Now it’s my turn.” Then he began trailing his mouth down her body. He first pressed a kiss to the gland marked with his own bite and then another right on one of her nipples.

“Mm-!” Byleth gasped.

Followed by a series of kisses all along her front, his eyes never leaving hers, as she felt his hips moving back to create space for him, further and further back, until finally he had his face mere inches away. Her cunt had begun overflowing again, just by having him like that between her legs.

“Have you done this before?” She found herself asking him.

An arresting blue gazed back at her. “Never,” he breathed. “You’re the first. Though I learned that women like it like this. Especially when I touch you. There.” He swirled a thumb into her clit and Byleth cried out in both surprise and desire as she drew her thighs closer together, crowding Dimitri even closer towards her heat. “It was my first time touching you there as well.”

Then his eyes drifted down to her glands and he stopped talking. Blood rushed down between her legs and up to her cheeks as the way he assessed her left Byleth feeling embarrassed beyond belief. As he took in the sight of her, his lips fell open as if inhaling the smell of her through his mouth, as if his mouth was watering. Byleth couldn’t imagine anyone looking at her the way he did in that instant. Like she looked good enough to eat.

As if reading her mind, or maybe he could for Dimitri might just have a better grasp of the bond than she did, his eyes snapped up to hers from where she lay back propped up by her elbows, chest heaving in utter arousal, and said, “I won’t be able to taste you but seeing you like this makes me wish that I could.”

Then before she could flinch away or say something in response, Dimitri closed his mouth over the upper half of her sex, moaning his need against her glands, and began to take her apart with his tongue.

He bit down too hard at times, his fangs scraping a sensitive area or tongue sliding along an uncomfortable spot.

“A little harder… here,” Byleth would direct him with her index to where it felt best. “Yes… _yes_ just like _that_.” Then her breath would catch in pleasure as he caught on to what she wanted and she fell silent again in appreciation of his hot mouth along her cunt.

Dimitri had always been one of her fastest learners.

And diligent, she added in her muddled thoughts, her hands threading through his hair and eventually graduating to small fistfuls of those soft strands when he discovered exactly how she wanted to be played with. Kneading her clit with short strokes of his thumbs while devouring her, pleasure twisted Byleth’s insides and the muscles inside began bunching up tight.

“Dimi…” She tried to say his name but her body hit a switch and the fast-approaching edge of her orgasm arched her back into the mattress as her thighs flexed around her lover’s head.

“_Byleth_,” he growled against her in a way that felt like an unceasing, powerful vibration against her glands, hearing him say her name.

In the end, Byleth thinks that was what drove her over the edge.

“Dimitri, Dimitri, I—!” Heady cycling desire blew away whatever she meant to say as she cried out in helplessness from her body’s natural conclusion.

Her lover kept his mouth on her even as her slick pushed out of her in silky waves, swallowing it all in the suctioning sensation she felt against her skin.

“Dimitri,” she murmured. “you don’t have to—mmm!”

He refused to move and bit down at her sex to show her what he thought of her suggestion and Byleth had to keep from crying out a second time.

The shaking in her legs eventually petered out, the throbbing inside her fading, as Byleth sat up, her hair a mess from writhing against the sheets. “Dimitri…” she called to him again and this time she grabbed hold of her alpha’s face. He let her and she guided him towards her so that they could lie next each other side by side.

He kissed her when he came close enough, enveloping her in his arms, and Byleth tasted her own essence on his tongue. “You remind me of ice cream,” Dimitri whispered in her ear to which Byleth pushed at him in indignation and he laughed. “I’m being honest. You smell like it so I’m sure that’s what you taste like.”

She wrinkled her nose at the idea. Byleth didn’t taste like much of anything, which was a blessing in itself. Then she nestled her face against the wound on his neck, cleaning away more of the blood there with little thought. “I wonder what you taste like…” she murmured aloud and then laughed when she heard him choke upon hearing her. “But not now,” she added. “You must be tired.”

“I am,” Dimitri admitted. He tucked her head under his chin. “Are you?”

“Mmm… a little.” A natural tiredness came upon her as she said so, one that didn’t seem caused by completing the bond. “Dimitri?”

“Yes?”

The question had formed when he first said it aloud and it resurfaced now that a calm had returned. “Why can’t you taste?” He stiffened as soon as she asked. She burrowed a little deeper into his arms. “Is it because of…?”

Nothing distressing passed through the bond nor did he push her away. Instead, his breathing remained calm. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts.

Then his body relaxed. “Yes, it’s because of what happened. All those years ago…” He whispered. “I haven’t been able to taste anything since that time.”

“I… see….” Byleth remembered how he spoke about favorite dishes from childhood during their meals together. His descriptions had always seemed more nostalgic than anything else. So he hadn’t been able enjoying them like she thought.

“It’s not something to worry about… Byleth…” Dimitri still said her name with a slight hesitance, unused to saying it aloud. Byleth looked forward to the day he became accustomed to doing so. “It’s merely a consequence from my past.”

She nodded, though unwilling to simply leave the conversation there. “Any nightmares last night?” She asked. She had spent a day agonizing over the right choice to make and had left him alone.

This time the tension in his shoulders was palpable while also surging in the bond and Byleth had to pull away and meet his gaze. His brows had pinched together, his lips flattened, which meant he was debating what to tell her.

“Tell me the truth,” she insisted, keeping her eyes in line with his. “I want to know.” The more honest he was with her the better. She needed to be someone he could confide in.

He began running his hands along her waist and hips like he had so many times before and Byleth wondered if that was his favorite place for his hands. “I haven’t… really told anyone about my dreams before.” He admitted.

She kissed him in encouragement, running her own hands along his face and neck, rubbing her thumb under his eye and at the edge of his lip. Her touches seemed to work because his anxiety subsided and he sank a little more into the bed.

“I think you may already have an idea, but I dream about the day of the tragedy. I don’t see them so much as hear them. Even in my dreams what happened that day is a blur. But their voices…”

His lip trembled and Byleth let her finger trace the contours, feeling him quivering on her skin. She kissed him again, lingering this time, letting her mouth mold against his as they shared breaths. Then she broke away but only enough to shift up in the bed and rest her forehead against his.

“You don’t have to go on.” Byleth comforted him. “I don’t hear my father’s voice in my sleep but sometimes… sometimes I dream of the field where he died. If he had died screaming…” She couldn’t bring herself to continue. The thought horrified her as much as the knowledge of what Dimitri heard at night during his most vulnerable moments. That time most personal to him.

Feeling a sudden protectiveness, she pulled Dimitri into her arms, pressing him against her chest, and resting her chin on his head. A reverse of their previous position.

Their connection teetered as if Dimitri was still deciding on how to react to her embrace. His hands twitched against her. Then he gripped her back, crushing her to him like he had when he had been inside her. “Every day,” he whispered to her, his voice tortured. “Every day I wish I had done something to save them. Instead of standing there like a weak fool. Every night I hear their pain from when they burned alive.”

She pressed a kiss to the top of his head then stayed there, murmuring, “You were only a child.”

“A foolish child nonetheless. One so helpless he could do nothing but watch his family die. In truth, I don’t think I deserve your kindness or your acceptance. I don’t.” He shifted beneath her and the next thing Byleth knew he had his nose pressed into the tender most part of her neck, closest to the jugular. He mouthed her there scraping it with his teeth. “Did you know? I’m sure Felix must have mentioned it by now. We quelled a rebellion together west of Faerghas. I led the element for that mission and he saw me that day… for what I was. How I looked when I had my first kill. How I looked when I had the next.” He pressed his face into her neck again except this time he bit down making her wince as she realized he had begun to spiral. “The blood… I think it excited me. I think it made me a monster and then I couldn’t stop. I had to kill. They looked guilty. I had to pass judgement. I had to kill the ones that took them all away from me—”

“Dimitri.” Byleth had his head between her hands again. His eyes had turned flat like they had in the forest. She was going to lose him if she didn’t say something. “That side of you you’re so scared of, I’ve already seen it.”

That seemed to snap him out of it. “… what?” was all he managed to say.

“I’ve already seen it,” Byleth said again. “In the tomb when Edelgard revealed herself. I saw the part of you you’ve kept inside. All this time. And… and that’s okay.”

“What do you mean?” Dimitri asked, his eyes wide with disbelief. “What do you mean it’s okay?”

Byleth gazed at him with tenderness in her heart, hoping that he could feel it in his as well. “That it’s okay for me to see that side of you. Because I want to know, I want to know everything you have buried inside. Let me share that burden with you because we already share our hearts,” Byleth traced the broken skin on his neck, then echoed his own words back to him. “That’s what it means to be mated to me.”

Dimitri brought a hand to her cheek. He looked at her as if he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “You’re amazing, do you know that?”

Byleth blushed at the sudden change in topic.

He stroked her cheek.

Even if she forgot his face or who he was, Byleth thought, she didn’t think she would ever forget the unique bumps of his fingertips against her skin, the care with which he touched her.

“Byleth,” he murmured.

“Yes?” She asked.

Dimitri gazed into her eyes with dazed sort of wonder. “Byleth.” He said again as if she hadn’t spoken.

She smiled.

He kissed her, pulling at her lower lip with his teeth like she had before leaning back. “Byleth,” he whispered her name once more. He dropped light kisses on her cheek and under her chin and along her neck and shoulder. As he pressed his lips against all these places he continued to say her name like a mantra. A prayer.

Her name, her name, her name. Swaying her, rocking her to sleep.

“You’re the future…” She heard him speaking before falling asleep in his arms. “… _my_ future… you and I…” His voice began fading in and out. “I… you…”

Then she heard his last words before sleep overtook her.

“My mate.”

The doors slammed open with a bang and flooded the room with daylight.

Byleth would have leapt out of bed to engage with whoever had come bursting in except a warm body shielded her from view and at the same time she realized that underneath the sheets she was still completely naked.

She looked up.

Dimitri had covered her with his torso, elbows on either side of her, and was turned towards the doorway, features transformed and gazed filled with the disbelief that they couldn’t have several days without someone running into the room.

Byleth couldn’t see the intruder from her vantage point. They had apparently smashed right through the lock.

Then a boy’s voice spoke up and recognition flared through her. “Rhea needs the professor. Dimitri, where is— agh!” He yelled out as soon as he realized what he had walked into.

“Cyril?” She peered over Dimitri’s shoulder at the almyran boy covering both his eyes.

“Professor, is that you?” He called out, frozen in place with shock. “You could have warned me.”

“If you’d knocked, you would’ve been spared the sight.” Dimitri snapped.

Byleth scowled at him and Dimitri, sensing her disapproval, peered back only to purse his lips to something akin to a pout, irritable from being awoken in such a manner, and looked away again. She wanted to roll her eyes. He could be such a child!

“Cyril,” She said, squeezing Dimitri’s hand under the sheets in reassurance despite his actions, and made sure to speak in a much kinder tone. “What does Rhea need?”

The boy put his hands down and, after turning to face the doorway, called over his shoulder to say, in a much more serious voice, “Rhea needs you in the audience chamber immediately with your house leader.” When he finished speaking, the lightest tremble ran along his body, which was small but belied the energy with which he could complete various daily tasks for the archbishop.

Her blood ran cold as she recognized it as fear. The boy didn’t scare easy. He had always been too practical and dedicated for him to lose his composure like that. “Is that all?” she coaxed him. “Did she say anything else?”

He tensed. “She didn’t, but…” He trailed off.

“It’s alright, Cyril, just tell us.”

“I couldn’t help but overhear when I was heading out the room.” The boy murmured.

“What is it?” Dimitri reneged and softened his tone when he saw Cyril’s obvious distress. He pulled Byleth a little closer to his body as if recognizing the direction the boy seemed to be going with his explanation. “What did she say?”

Cyril kept his gaze focused on the doorway, hands stiff at his sides. When he replied, his voice was foreboding.

“That the Adrestian army will march on Garreg Mach in less than two days. That we are now officially at war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I ends in the next chapter.
> 
> Thank you to all my readers for liking this story. It's been fun writing for you and I will continue doing so as we still have yet to begin Part II. As always I read every one of your comments even if I don't always respond right away. 
> 
> Also, a shoutout to those of you that joined the discord. You've helped make the server more lively than ever! 
> 
> Until next time!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

The bond pulled at Byleth like a needle quivering north.

The sensation had emerged after their complete mating, one that grew in strength with proximity to her mate.

It meant he carried part of her magic in him now, a piece of her occupying a space inside him like he did in her. An equal exchange that stabilized their incredible connection.

She placed a hand over her breast.

Sunlight warmed her as she felt for the miraculous heartbeats beneath her fingertips.

All of a sudden, there was so much more to lose.

“Professor?” The voice brought her to the present.

“Ashe?” Byleth stepped through the stable doors for a better view of her student. Unit drills and rehearsals had required every last mount the church could spare and the stables had been emptied save for one.

The archer had been brushing the mare with surprising familiarity. Without any other occupants, every movement made greater sound than usual. The uneven slide of leather accentuated his brushings. 

“I’m not used to this.” Ashe laughed. Humorless. “I’m usually aiming my bow when we’re in armor. Not grooming horses.”

The blue lions had scattered to their respective tasks, with Ashe conducting his own preparations here in the stables. The mare in his company looked like any other horse, yet Ashe brushed her with surprising familiarity.

Ashe smiled at her approach, but with eyes less bright than usual. More than likely due to the threat of war hanging over all their heads.

The mare beside him watched her with dark, intelligent eyes.

“I’m thinking of bringing Dorte with me tomorrow.” He raised an ungloved hand to her mane. “I can’t ride her very well, but there might be an advantage if I have her there.”

“Dorte…” A familiar name. “Did Marianne teach you?”

“Yeah…” Ashe patted the horse on the neck then pulled a carrot from his hip pocket.

The horse leaned forward to take a hearty bite out of the vegetable. With a little too much enthusiasm.

Ashe snatched his fingers away before the beast ate them too. His brush fell to the floor.

“Whoa!” He glanced at his digits. “Or not I guess…” Instead of a laugh, however, his lips twisted into a wry smile just before he turned away.

“Ashe—” Byleth reached out to grasp his shoulder.

“No need to worry about me, professor,” He dodged her touch even as his voice sounded light. “I’m doing fine. I’m sure you still need to check on everyone else.”

“Ashe…” Byleth didn’t touch him, but she stepped closer and peered past the messy fringe of his grey hair.

The boy had an adopted bloodline, but fought until now with the precision and determination that remained constant even after his father’s death. He fought with a consideration for others and the intent to lay down his life for his classmates if there ever came a time.

“I said I’m fine, professor. I’m…”

But he kept many of his inner struggles and misgivings to himself that Byleth rarely saw him so vulnerable.

Ashe bent down to pick up what he dropped, but then he simply held the brush aloft.

“If only I was just…”

His pain ran deeper than he let on.

Ashe finally turned back towards her. “Professor, if I don’t make it out of this alive,” his eyes dark with acceptance. “I give the blue lions and anyone else you trust permission to use House Gaspard’s grounds as refuge if need be. I want us to be safe after this, I want all of us to be safe.”

“What makes you think you won’t make it?”

Byleth stepped closer, causing Ashe to open his eyes, her height placing their gazes in line with one another.

“What makes you think you aren’t strong enough for this?”

She could see the darker green in his eyes. Hear his unsteady breaths. Then his expression hardened and, for the second time since Byleth met him, Ashe’s voice took on a bitter note.

“Because Annette almost died because of me.”

* * *

“Found ya, professor.”

The quiet of the empty stables distorted and then shifted to the stillness of armored feet and hooves on the sprawling fields of the monastery.

The dark greens from her memory bled into the steady, red-brown of the Almyran boy that landed before her, strapped in plated-mesh armor atop a young wyvern.

She felt a pang in her chest at the sight, followed by a sympathetic answer from battalions away as Dimitri sensed her through the bond.

War had outfitted a child with weapons and armor.

War had separated her students into two formations across a battlefield in preparation for what would be the first of many battles against the Empire.

Byleth nodded at Cyril, the wyvern battalion’s latest addition. Beside her, Flayn’s pegasus whinnied in anticipation as it rustled its white wings and tamped down with its hooves, rousing Sylvain’s horse to do the same.

Their respective murmurs to calm their mounts sent similar whisperings through the soldiers gathered behind them.

As the more seasoned fighting force, the mercenaries from her father’s company stood quiet, anticipating. From the corner of her eye, Byleth could see Jacob’s blonde, grey-streaked head amongst the familiar faces, his stone-sharpened sword gleaming in the sun.

He met her gaze with calm, grey eyes and the slightest twist in his lips. The experienced fighter had seen enough to know what came next.

Byleth could smell the nervous sweat within their ranks, intermixed with the simmering underscore of frenzy. Not just from the ones in her section but from the alphas interspersed along the front lines.

She had confidence, however, that the burgeoning power within her could quell that frenzy before it proved detrimental.

Blood-wrath would be the only thing she couldn’t control with any certainty.

But she pushed down those misgivings as she unsheathed her blade, the harsh slide of its metal from the scabbard rousing the soldiers around her.

Cyril’s arrival could only mean one thing.

The boy unlatched his axe from his side and bared his teeth, though he failed to hide the tremor in his lip as he whispered,

“_They’re here_.”

Byleth reached for the pool of energy deep inside her and, in doing so, skimmed past the magic of her mate, causing a strange mix of pleasure and trepidation to bloom in her hips. It appeared to echo the fear and desire Dimitri always seemed to hold for her since the creation of their bond. 

She raised her sword, baring the fangs she inherited from her final merging with Sothis, and released the flow of her magic to cover nearly every designated crest-bearer on the field.

“So it begins!”

* * *

Mercedes knew the names of each and every one of the monks in her battalion.

Over the course of the past two days, she made the effort to memorize them. Theirs, the names of their siblings, their mothers and fathers, where they called home.

As they healed the professor while she influenced the tide of battle or Sylvain as he spearheaded the assault on countless soldiers of the Empire, Mercedes listed those names in her head along with those of her classmates.

She listed them with every healing surge of light between her fingertips, every killing blow forced to leave her palm. Numerous bottles of healing liquid strapped to her waist and the enhancing magic of her incredible professor sustained Mercedes’ untiring efforts to mend the wounds of her teammates. 

She listed their names without fail, spell after spell after spell, almost a dervish on the battlefield when—

Cruel talons. Then gurgled screams.

Mercedes faltered at her name as the first monk’s head parted with her body.

And the first of the winged beasts descended upon them.

* * *

Flayn forced down a sob as she tore her lance from the motionless creature whose wingspan proved intimidating even while splayed in the grass. The lives of enemies and allies alike drenched her surroundings.

Mercedes stood—bloodied but alive— further down the battlefield as Byleth secured another advantageous position for the monastery.

Flayn was once known as Saint Cethleann the healer, tender to the weary and the injured.

Now, for the sake of her classmates, she became a killer once more.

Flayn reared her pegasus and rushed forward to intercept a warrior closing in on Sylvain’s flank. As she hovered over her new opponent, her thoughts birthed a sort of desperation.

“Please…” Flayn could hardly hear her own voice over the din of scraping metal. “Tell me your name.”

The sight of her stopped the man in his tracks. “You… how old are you?”

His armor shifted with him as he asked her this, as if fitted to his body. Filigreed on his shoulder, the lines of an unfamiliar house.

Flayn couldn’t bring herself to answer and smiled instead. A smile she struggled to keep. “Please. I’d like to know your name.”

Suspicion alighted in his eyes at her repeated question, but he continued in the same vein as he said, “Run away. You don’t belong in a place like this. It isn’t too late to relieve yourself of this pointless fighting.”

Flayn felt like crying again somehow as she replied, “I’m afraid that isn’t an option…” She belonged here with her friends and family more than anywhere else.

Then her heart flew into her throat in a stifled gasp as several arrows buried themselves in the ground beside her. Her mount whinnied.

The warrior lowered the hand he had raised to signal the attack. “Then there’s no choice. If you won’t move, then I’ll have to move you myself.”

He readied his axe.

“My name is Randolph. And I hope it’s the last time you’ll ever hear it.”

* * *

Dorothea had always hoped that Edelgard would never resort to tactics like the deployment of the avian monsters that slaughtered half Felix’s battalion before Ingrid’s unit rallied and put them down. 

But, like many hopes she had before this day began, they fell short of the reality that had engulfed them without mercy.

She could hear them still.

Bile crept up her throat as Dorothea maneuvered a gruesome hell— frothing red mixed with trampled greens, knights screaming in terror when they plummeted— searching for a familiar face. With no battalion of her own, it had been easy to be waylaid by the enemy and lose track of the main force.

With every thrust of her palm, she killed the odd soldier here and there, adding the scent of charred flesh to the scene. They had already begun to redden, the first signs of magic fatigue.

“I’m a lover, not a fighter.” She laughed in helplessness. “Gods, if only I could’ve started saying that to myself a year ago.”

Then she caught sight of the mounted figure a little under a stone’s throw away where the ground sloped to form a small hill.

“Ah…”

Whatever she meant to say next, the thought left her head in an instant.

“… fuck.”

Just as Dorothea swore for the first time in a long while, the Death Knight atop his cursed steed raised his scythe and began bearing down on her position.

* * *

He couldn’t believe it when it happened.

Ignatz scrabbled on the ground, putting his hands on anything he could find: metal, grass, cloth from a ruined cape.

He still couldn’t believe it even as the world appeared blurred and fused together in a single mass of color, the steel bow against his back the only thing grounding him.

He had dropped his glasses.

He had dropped his goddamn glasses.

Somewhere in this forsaken field.

Above and around him soldiers screamed battle cries and rattled their deaths as weapons of all kinds found their mark— none of whom, surprisingly, ended up being him.

Ignatz hurried, though the terrible sense of futility sank further and further into his chest even as he continued to grasp at every item that came into contact with his fingers.

Then he heard a cry of pain coming from somewhere ahead of him. An undeniably familiar voice.

“… Flayn?” He whispered.

The very sound of her name seemed to wipe everything else away and a calm unlike anything he expected washed over him. The feel of the earth beneath his fingers grew more pronounced and substantial, prompting him to search the ground with greater deliberation. 

Then another cry. This time much sharper and desperate than the last. Almost like that of a small, wounded animal.

“Flayn!” Fear threatened to overwhelm him again. Nearly sending him back into a panic when his hand landed on something flat and round.

Ignatz almost cried in relief.

Whipping his glasses back on to his nose, Ignatz wrenched his bow off his back, notched an arrow into place, and wasted no time in sighting the cause of Flayn’s agony.

The arrow flew true.

Her assailant roared in pain as the point slipped between the gaps in his armor, flinching so that he could grasp at the offending wound.

Then Flayn cried out. “Ignatz!”

But the warning came too late as something large and spinning smashed into his shoulder, followed by an explosion of pain as it slammed him back into the ground.

His own blood flecked on to his glasses. The wound felt numb. 

Then a shadow fell over him and Ignatz felt his body hover off the ground before falling back with a thud. The man retrieved whatever had been buried inside him, which Ignatz now recognized as a throwing axe.

He could see the design of the head and, as such, the familiarity of its shape. The irony of it all made him want to chuckle.

“Ber… Bergliez…” He coughed.

“I’m sorry,” the voice sounded sincere. “I wish your last words could have been for someone you cared about.”

He raised the axe over his head.

“This is for my family’s sake.”

The weapon swung down and Ignatz closed his eyes, gritting his teeth in preparation for the blow—

That never came.

Instead a blast of wind Ignatz blew into him and all he could do was shut his eyes against the onslaught.

Then, just as a bright light seeped past his eyelids and his shoulder began to prickle, he heard a low but familiar voice.

“And this is for my daughter.”

* * *

The brilliant gleam of white magic blinded Leonie long enough for a lance bearer to find his mark in her shoulder, later leaving a scar that would mirror that of a classmate.

“Damn!” Leonie bit out just as she countered and freed her attacker of his throat, his blood now indistinguishable from the lining of his uniform.

Then she slashed an errant arrow away from her as the lancer fell limp to the ground.

“You better still be alive after this, Ignatz,” she growled to herself, glancing in the direction where she last saw him. “Or I’ll come find you in the after-life.”

“Agh!” Then a voice cried out from above and Leonie arched her back in time to see the trailing remains of a magical strike— Claude faltering as he struggled to keep his wyvern in flight— which allowed her to follow the origin of the spell to…

A signature black cap that Leonie could recognize anywhere as the Death Knight prepared to run her down.

Her heart stilled as she came to a realization.

From the corner of her eye, Claude lost altitude… and began to fall.

There was no time to think. Leonie screamed her frustration at the unjust choice offered her. There was no time.

She snapped the reins.

And raced towards the one she needed to save.

* * *

Sometimes Marianne felt like she had abandoned her classmates.

Claude.

Raphael…

The wailing had stopped as another of the knights passed away before her magic could reach them and Marianne gripped an ancient relic between her hands hard while blood trickled warm and wet from her palms.

And Lorenz, who had insisted she take his family heirloom for her own sake. She should have refused.

But he had looked so grave.

So, so grave that, as he pressed the wand into her hands, Marianne had no choice but to accept, hovering over her as he whispered his desire for her to take the relic into battle. Which was how, for the first time, she had realized just how tall he was. How enveloping his presence…

Blood stained her sleeves like before and Marianne couldn’t shake the feeling that such a sight seemed appropriate for someone like her.

She was a curse to everyone around her. 

“Marianne…" She startled to hear a voice murmur from beside her. “Your death would hurt his highness greatly.”

A lull in the fighting had afforded the duscan young man to speak with her.

Marianne shook her head as she settled more of her weight against the mottled surface of the relic. “That’s a kind lie, Dedue. I sincerely wish that were true.”

“Don’t.” The lifeblood of his last opponent slid down the battered metal of his armor. “Because it already is.”

Marianne closed her eyes, not wanting his words giving her hope when there was none to be had.

Except for the memory of those brown eyes from the forest. So much like hers, but stronger, wilder.

_Awake_—

White light bloomed all around and Marianne moved just in time for Professor Manuela to land beside her.

Fur-lined robes tinged black, hair ruffled far beyond their usual pomp, her former professor placed a firm hand over her own.

Manuela winked. “I need to borrow this for just a second.”

* * *

They all looked the same. Every last one of them.

“He’s here. Here! Gods! He—!” The noise cut off as a lance dispatched him with a single stroke.

The man was alive and now he wasn’t.

“Fight him you cowards. He’s just a boy.”

The divine connection within tethered him to the present. Enough for him to have an awareness. Of his body and his weapon. A beacon in an impenetrable darkness. A light he could touch just by reaching inside himself.

Dimitri fed on that light with an endless greed.

“He’s a demon! Good gods!”

He knew nothing but the end of his lance and the flesh he penetrated as he made his way towards the source of his suffering.

He wanted and wanted and wanted more than anything the death of the person behind this madness. The one whose very existence had plunged his life into hell.

“A madman—please don’t make me— please don’t—Argh!”

An Adrestian had cut down his own soldier.

Dimitri turned to face him.

Bearded and greying, he stood a head taller than the rest. A high-ranking soldier without a doubt.

Something about the action roused Dimitri out of his trance.

“Wasn’t he one of you?” He had difficulty recognizing his own voice. His throat burned from overuse in his battle cries.

The axe-bearer stepped over the subordinate he had mortally wounded.

“He stopped being one of us when he refused the order.” He had been resting his axe on his shoulder when he spoke, but now brought it down headfirst to rest by his foot. “Turned his back on the empire.”

He leaned a casual hand against the bottom of the handle and the movement drew Dimitri in. Therein lay the promise of the next fight, the subsequent act of violence that would bring him under again.

“Keep your eyes where it counts, boy.”

A small blade caught the light of the sun as it flew towards Dimitri right when the man charged with a mighty leap.

* * *

Assigning him the battalion had been a mistake.

Enraged, Felix cut down one adversary after the other as he led the remainder of his forces in pursuit of wayward royalty. The satisfaction of winning did little to temper the anger that only swelled as they closed ground on the cavalry.

“Typical.” He had growled upon seeing how far ahead Dimitri had pushed.

Once the winged beasts had been dispatched, the path had been freed for the knights to forge ahead. If they traveled any slower, Felix would have to leave them behind.

In return, they followed him out of a sense of duty to the church, but nothing beyond that.

He had always been better suited for infiltration, a role more akin to assassination than that of a straightforward, simpler path preferred by those he led. Next time he would ask for a smaller squad or none at all. He preferred the latter.

Then Felix finally caught sight of their paladins and he sighed in relief.

Only to curse when he realized Dimitri wasn’t with them.

“Where the hell did he go?” He hissed.

Then he spotted the blonde-blue figure further to the south and, without hesitation, exploded into a sprint.

Leaping over prone bodies and shoving aside enemies the knights could handle themselves, Felix raced his way to the figure engaging in combat deep within enemy lines.

“God-damn you, you stupid boar.”

Felix embraced the excess magic exuding from their professor’s god-like powers and imbued them into his strides as he crossed the field with speed almost akin to flight.

“Why… are you always…” He was almost upon them now, Dimitri’s familiar colors growing closer and closer.

He cleared the last obstacle, a collapsed overgrown pillar of a by-gone section of the monastery, just in time to see the last man standing swing an axe at a vulnerability in Dimitri’s defense.

“Always…”

Felix gave a final burst of speed and propelled himself forward like a wild storm.

“So damn reckless!”

He collided with the upper body. The impact of his landing warped the armor and left enough of an opening for his blade to slide through.

“Agghh!” With a surprising amount of adrenaline-fueled strength and momentum, the much larger man flung the alpha into a nearby boulder.

Felix felt the bones in his arm shatter as the impact knocked the breath from his lungs. He fell to the grass in a heap.

“Shit…” He coughed up liquid with a salty tang and couldn’t be bothered to check what it was. He was all too familiar with the taste thanks to a certain damn idiot.

He looked up to see just about what he expected.

His attack gave Dimitri the opening he needed to catch the man’s head in one hand and lift his kicking feet just out of reach from the ground.

In a show of bravado that would impress Felix for years to come, the man began to laugh. And laugh and laugh, even as the muscles in Dimitri’s arm bulged to signal what would come next.

For all his experience with death, Felix had to look away when Dimitri dealt the final blow.

The body hit the ground after the skull cracked and which came the sound of hurried footsteps as Felix finally raised his head to see the prince closing in, then kneeling down. To reach out for him.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Felix spat, causing Dimitri to falter. True disgust had welled within him at the sight of the prince’s bloodied hand. “I don’t want you breaking my other arm.”

He couldn’t tell, this time, if Dimitri had enjoyed crushing yet another man’s skull with his bare hands, but neither could Felix forget that the prince once had.

“Please…” The crazed mist that must have been clouding his expression not a few moments ago had been replaced by an earnestness that those clear, blue eyes knew how to express.

Felix confirmed that he would rather die than to ever admit that it worked and had softened him up enough to concede. 

“Just the arm. Nothing else.”

“Thank you.”

Then, with little fanfare, Dimitri touched him and white light glowed beneath his fingertips, fed by what Felix could only assume was the same power he himself had called upon.

If Felix hadn’t known better, he might have mistaken him for a saint. 

By the time he returned to his feet, sword in hand, the bones had set and mobility had returned to his arm.

He nodded in thanks, but did little else. The prince could find his own way back to his men. Felix needed to regroup with the remaining knights.

Just as he prepared to leave, however, Dimitri flinched.

Felix swung around to scan for the possible direction of the new enemy only for the alpha to grab his wrist.

Before he could wrench his hand back to say something nasty, Dimitri’s panicked expression snatched away his words.

As the prince opened his mouth to speak, a wrenching inhuman scream pierced the air. Soon answered by hundreds of hair-raising responses.

“Run.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter ran long so I'm separating it in two! This chapter made me think of hot potato. 
> 
> I'm still alive, everyone. Took a bit of a break and it took a while to get the creative juices flowing again. 
> 
> I hope all of you are staying safe and healthy out there. 
> 
> But I just gotta say. 
> 
> Aren't you all glad this wasn't an april fools? ;)
> 
> \- shoyou100


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I

Her breath burned in her chest, sword arm pulsing from the violence in her wake, as they re-established the front lines. Her mercenaries served as an unstoppable force while they overwhelmed lancers and axe-bearers alike.

Byleth never felt more alive.

Soldiers fell by the dozen to her blade, their blood wetting her skin and soaking into her hair. Aiming for a combination of fatal wounds and debilitating ones, her opponents fell regardless of their ability to fight. Behind her, Jacob and the rest of her men finished any who refused to stay down.

She only took what she needed, nothing more, only what it took to clear a path.

Only what it took to—

“S-stop, right there!”

High pitched and shaking, Byleth froze mid strike before she could cut through the layered cloth of the mage that had spoken.

That voice. She had heard it before in the garden. Brunette hair and hazel eyes.

A student of Garreg Mach.

Her hesitation emboldened the academy’s former student.

“You can’t go any further!”

A poisonous puddle of dark magic oozed into existence between them with startling speed, more than several meters across.

“What are you doing here?” Byleth whispered. Exhaustion seemed to catch up to her all of a sudden at the unwanted respite during the melee and her arm and knees trembled from the strain of sustaining numerous alphas and omegas at a greater distance than ever before.

They seemed to pull at her from a pool-like existence within her awareness like individual strands that tingled whenever one of them used her strength, rippling down from the source and allowing her to gain a sense of their location. Adrenaline had hidden the physical drain of this new ability.

“That doesn’t matter right now.” The girl said, an undeniable steel entering her eyes likely mirroring her peers fighting alongside her.

The poison seeped away only to roil in at a more concentrated and stronger fashion than before, forcing Byleth to leap back.

“What matters is that I stop you from taking another step!”

Byleth still had human limitations, despite possessing the soul of a goddess. Her body needed sustenance and rest, like everyone else.

“Then I’m sorry to disappoint.” Byleth crouched low.

Yet the human body could be capable of incredible things, especially one enhanced by Sothis herself.

“What—”

Byleth drew power into her legs and leaped up and over, clearing not only the girl but her platoon of mages that had been poised further back. They had been the ones imbuing the poison with a greater lethality.

Byleth landed on the grass with the tip of her sword softening the landing.

“If it makes you feel any better,” She slipped the blade out of its earthly sheathe by breaking into a sprint, “I didn’t have to take a step to get past you!”

Poison spewed out furious and relentless after her—

Until a black blur leaped out and scattered the casters, dispelling the magic.

Byleth felt a strand pull against her and she reached out, driven by an unknowable instinct, enough for someone grab hold and lift her on to a galloping steed.

“Gotcha.” Sylvain breathed as he secured her tight in the saddle.

“Let’s go.” Byleth said and, without glancing back, they raced towards the northernmost section of the field.

Towards the very heart of the army. 

* * *

Like pure energy pulsating beneath his arms, the professor’s body resembled a burning sun.

Or, Sylvain thought as they hurtled over the battlefield, what holding the sun might feel like.

A body that radiated a warmth both physical and magical as her proximity healed the aches in his body and filled him with an incredible strength. Her small form contained a deceptive amount of power.

He could only imagine how much of that power now fueled Dimitri as their soldiers gained the advantage in their forward lines. Like the professor, his section had advanced with noticeable results as the battle progressed.

A progression that Sylvain hoped had kept Felix close by.

Sylvain almost tightened his grip at the thought, but knew it might hurt the woman in his arms so he forced himself to stay calm.

He preferred if Felix stuck close to the strongest alpha he had ever met

It was during this fleeting thought, mere seconds as his mount carried them forward, that a shadow blotted out the sun.

He turned his head skyward and, as his mind recognized what it was, his body had already begun to move.

Embracing the omega in his arms, Sylvain threw them both from the saddle as the shadow hit their unfortunate steed mid-gallop.

And exploded.

The blast propelled them sideways and, just as Sylvain began curling the professor into a protective embrace, metal glinted in his periphery.

With a shout, he thrust his teacher aside to safety then caught the attack with his forearm.

Pain erupted in his arm as the weapon pierced his armor and embedded metal in his flesh, but he absorbed the brunt of it with a low grunt.

He extended his leg, driven backwards by the blow, and caught enough ground with his foot to angle himself sideways.

The weapon, that Sylvain now recognized as a lance, flew past him but, before he could reach for his own, a silver blade came sweeping in from the side.

He blocked the sweep with both arms crossed in front of him.

Bright hair reminiscent of a rising sun alighted in his eyes and Sylvain would have rolled them had he not been gritting his teeth from the broken metal shards pressing into his skin.

“Now, now that wasn’t nice,” He managed bite out instead. “Aren’t you supposed to be a considerate little noble, _Ferdie_?”

Indignant eyes of ripe orange peered into his own over the space between his crossed arms and exclaimed, “You dare refer to me as such!”

Ferdinand, the heir of House Aegir, pressed his blade harder into Sylvain’s block. Sylvain hid the pain behind a smirk.

“We have never come any closer than classmates because of your loose ways.” Ferdinand glared as he spoke. “If things had gone differently, perhaps we could have been allies.”

“Perhaps.”

He shoved the noble back with a burst of power, forcing his opponent to retreat several steps.

“Impossible…” Sylvain heard him murmur.

“I guess I’ve always wanted to fight you, Ferdie.” Sylvain continued, taunting him as the lance of ruin found its way into his palm. “It’s in our nature.”

The shock melted away from Ferdinand’s face, as Sylvain spoke, and a small grin took its place. He had never been known to back down from a challenge.

“I suppose I agree.”

He stood upright, pointing his silver sword in a hard line at Sylvain’s chest. Ferdinand smiled in eagerness as the edge of his sharpened canines gleamed in the sun and he said,

“Then may the best alpha win.”

* * *

When her body failed to make contact with the grassy floor, Byleth knew she had been teleported.

She skidded to a stop, catching her blade in the grass once more as smoke dissipated around her, dark like a bruise.

Before she could stand up, a voice began to speak.

“I had hoped we wouldn’t meet like this, but it seems I might have been too optimistic.”

Heavy steps and the sound of smooth metal sliding on smooth metal, dark cloth lined in bloodred and a pair of armored feet entered the outer edges of Byleth’s vision.

The hairs along her neck began to rise and her body shivered hot and cold at the same time, winding her tight. Like a flame urging up her insides, past her throat and her teeth.

Byleth clamped down on fangs that felt much too sharp all of a sudden and gripped the handle of her sword until she could feel a trembling vibration as it teetered towards shattering.

It was anger. Fury.

Near absolute madness.

Perhaps she didn’t have the excuse of having Dimitri nearby to react in her stead. Perhaps this anger had always been there and all it took was a personal encounter with the person behind her father’s murder to bring it all out.

Byleth rose to her feet. “Edelgard, why?”

She met the false gaze of the young woman’s helmet, “How can you keep wearing that uniform…” and spread her legs just past her shoulders.

“… when it belongs to the same persona that had Jeralt killed?”

The empress remained impassive, unmoving behind her painted mask. Her relic, a weapon reminiscent of a creature’s front jaw, writhed at its physical connection with the wielder bearing its crest. Edelgard kept it at an angle away from her body and one foot in front of the other.

She had prepared for an attack, one that Byleth refused to make.

They would likely fight before the hour’s end, but first.

They had to talk.

“I’m sorry for your father’s death, truly.” Edelgard replied. Her voice sounded sincere, but she still had the weapon poised, not trusting Byleth to stay her hand. “I can’t change the past, professor.”

She couldn’t grip her sword any harder else it would break. “Where’s Hubert?”

Edelgard tilted her head, bringing the steel lining the mask into harsh relief.

Calculating. The part of Edelgard that had considered her every move. It had always been there, for every interaction they shared since the very beginning.

The ensuing silence confirmed her suspicions.

Someone had waylaid the dark mage not long after he had warped her. Things had not gone according to plan.

“You have one question.” Sharp and unyielding, Edelgard changed her tone. “Just one and then we fight. So choose carefully, professor.”

“Before I do,” Byleth had already begun reaching for the ruined embroidery draped around her shoulders, the desire having long crossed her mind. “We should speak face to face.”

With a swift pull of her arm, Byleth tore the cape from her shoulders and dropped it onto the ground, exposing the skin beneath and finally undoing the last of the restrictions to her movement.

“You…!” Edelgard flinched, showing substantial emotion and movement for the first time since she had appeared. Raising a hand, she grasped the underside of her helmet, fingers digging in, and lifted.

A cascade of white slipped into sight followed by her ever-so-severe, lavender gaze. Byleth could see shock, even dismay, in those eyes and a dark, rich aroma began pervading the air.

“You’ve…”

Those eyes lowered to rest on her neck, followed by a dull thud as she released her helmet.

“Mated.”

The air churned to take on a recognizable bitter scent. Byleth ignored it, though the existence of it carried more meaning than anything Edelgard could have said aloud and made Byleth more wary of the alpha than ever before.

“What would it take for you to surrender?” She murmured, staying in place despite the danger such a scent posed at close quarters.

The alpha shook her head as if to clear her thoughts.

“It would take,” she growled, “the implementation of a meritocracy devoid of crests, starting with the complete removal of the church and its religion.”

Then she became quiet, letting the words sink in.

“So…” Byleth began, only for Edelgard to continue.

“So, in other words, professor,” her brows drew together in conviction. “I would never surrender because you sided with the very people behind the injustice in this world. I will direct a new course to a better future in one, all-encompassing sweep. And it seems I now have another reason as well,”

She bared her teeth, revealing the gradual elongation of her canines, the transformation of her pupils.

“You really did choose him in the end.” She looked away and her expression broke. “I had hoped…”

Truly at a loss for words, the sight took Byleth for surprise. 

Reaching out, she had almost taken a step forward when the wind changed direction and a new scent entered her senses.

Byleth snapped back and parried the axe-strike that blurred into existence from her blind spot, the stench of frenzy overwhelming.

Savage eyes of wild lavender glared at her from between their interlocked blades.

“Don’t you ever,” she snarled, “Pity me again, professor.”

Then Edelgard shoved the creator sword aside with a strength enough to overwhelm her for an instant and thrust her weapon forward like a spear.

Too close to dodge or parry, the lethal teeth jutting from Edelgard’s relic cut into her flesh. White light healed the wound almost as it tore the skin, but the blow staggered her.

Edelgard swung her axe for another devastating blow as momentum threw Byleth back, but she recovered in time and rolled aside.

She conjured a fiery flame in her palm and Edelgard shifted mid-swing to protect her face.

Then Byleth snuffed the spell in a feint and thrust her weight forward instead and, true to her aim, pierced the weakest point between the empress’s armored plates.

She cried out from the unexpected wound as Byleth used the momentum to leap into a far-reaching roll that created enough space for her signature attack.

Until the alpha charged with incredible speed and closed the distance before Byleth could snap the sword into its winding, skeletal form.

Byleth parried her attacks again and again, though they threw her back each time as sheer will and brutality drove each of Edelgard’s strikes until, finally, both sides stood exhausted.

Edelgard gasped long and deep as she angled her axe head towards to the grass in an effort to hide her reliance on its handle to maintain her weight. Byleth thought she heard the softest, almost inaudible, “Shit…” come from her direction.

Her body continued to draw upon the deep reservoir that tapped into Dimitri’s strength. Impossibly, energy began returning to her limbs, which served as further proof for how the prince had withstood a one-sided mating for as long as he did. He had been blessed with an almost boundless natural endurance.

She spread her legs once again and this time she angled the sword in the style she had always favored most out of anything else.

Edelgard chuckled without humor. “I did think you would one day use that move on me one day, but I didn’t think it’d be soon. It looks like I really… really miscalculated this one…”

Though the alpha had warned her not to, Byleth still found herself saying, “It’s not too late.” She lowered her sword. “You can still turn back. Things can still be—”

“You and I both know that’s not true, professor.” Edelgard laughed aloud this time as if the idea brought her true mirth. “I didn’t think you could still be so naïve.”

Before Byleth could say another word, the empress raised her hand. Neither in submission nor for a spell.

She made a complex symbol with her fingers and it wasn’t until the ground began to rumble that Byleth recognized it for what it was.

It had been a signal.

A silhouette rose over the horizon, across the hill that oversaw the monastery and led to the mountains, and the rumbling became a near earthquake.

“What!” Byleth gasped. “What have you… done…?”

“I didn’t want to do this, professor, but you left me no choice.”

“Edelgard, what have you _done_?”

“Sometimes…” The empress closed her eyes and made another sign with her fingers.

Black magic began encircling her body, swirling faster and faster.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Then the magic swallowed her whole and dissipated, leaving nothing behind.

Suddenly, a creature lurched forward from her blind side and Byleth struck the mass with a burst of complete adrenaline. Her inhuman power came into contact with its body, rending it in half.

Falling apart on either side of her, a glance at the pieces revealed a hideous, four-legged monster. Hound-like in its appearance, it had originated from the shadows.

The shadows of an entire horde.

Several more sprinted towards her and Byleth did the only thing she could.

Sending an initial warning through the bond she shared with Dimitri, she grasped for the invisible strands tying her allies to her person and signaled her message as best as she could.

_Retreat_.

* * *

The ensuing melee had killed his horse and so, together with Felix, the two of them ran for their lives.

Her urging had pierced him like an arrow through his chest. A sudden and horrifying sense of danger.

“Retreat! _Retreat_!” He cried, stopping at times to sound the order.

A single knight raced to his side as if on command and extended a hand, “Get on, sir!”

The choice had been too easy. “Go, Felix!” 

“No! I won’t leave your sorry ass behind.” The alpha growled, but Dimitri, anticipating this reaction, grabbed him around the waist with both hands.

“Sorry for this,” was all he said to his childhood friend as he hoisted him up towards the knight like a ragdoll. The soldier caught on to Felix’s arm and wrenched him without ceremony on to the saddle behind him.

“Hyah! I’ll keep him safe my liege,” the kingdom knight cried over his shoulder as they both raced away. Felix threw him an incensed look, but accepted his lot and leaned into the knight’s backside.

Dimitri began running again as the two figures rode away. The monstrous horde behind him swallowed the land without pause and, there ahead of the chaos, he could sense Byleth.

Relief filled him as he continued to keep track of her slow, but steady return to the monastery.

The danger of blood-wrath had dissipated and Dimitri felt a greater awareness now of their relative positions. His heart pounded from exertion and thankfulness. Save his knights, the majority of their forces had already received the order.

He deigned from using any more of Byleth’s strength as he kept a breakneck pace.

“Dimitri!” Ingrid flew in low beside him. Her armor looked the worse for wear, stained and melted in several places with a dark purple residue.

The damage triggered a memory and the undesired image of the Adrestian Empire’s tactician emerged in his mind’s eye. Hubert had always enjoyed mentioning his experimentation with increasing the lethality of his dark magic in passing, often to illicit a rise out of his listeners.

Pride welled inside him at the implications of his childhood friend’s otherwise lack of injuries. He could only imagine the state in which she’d left the dark mage.

“Ingrid…!” Dimitri gasped without slowing as the would-be knight maintained her dangerously low flight. “Leave me! Your pegasus. It can’t handle the weight.”

“But I can’t leave you like this.” Ingrid retorted and Dimitri wished she had been born just a little less stubborn.

“Then keep them off our backs. But stay just out of range.” Ingrid didn’t move like he told her to and he had to bare his fangs.

He might have reasoned with her more, but right now they had little time.

He growled, “That’s an _order_.”

Instinct still cowed her, even while a beta, as a pall fell over her face. Her lips pursed, bringing an immediate pang to his chest at a sight he had seen one too many times as children. Ingrid never did like it when things didn’t go her way.

She nodded. Then peeled away without another word.

Ahead of him, soldiers and students alike filed through the monastery gateway into the outer courtyard. From there, the masses would escape through the underground passageways built since the very beginning.

A hand clapped down on his shoulder, interrupting his thoughts, and Dimitri almost elbowed whoever had grabbed him until he heard a familiar voice.

“Whoa there! I guess we lost our horses again. Just like old times am I right? Ingrid told me you were being an idiot by the way.” This made the alpha bark with laughter, the tips of his fangs catching the sunlight.

They continued running without breaking stride.

“After this…” Dimitri agreed. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”

They were almost at the gates.

“I also heard you saved Felix. He’s never been very good at cross-country.” Sylvain winked, which finally brought Dimitri to notice the dark bruise under his eye. “And that’s a gift from precious Ferdie. Dirtier fighter than I thought!”

Dimitri snorted at that. Then they reached the iron entryway and staged themselves on either side in order to receive the remnants of their army.

Byleth continued running their way, malformed creatures still dogging her heels.

He could feel the anxiety in her heart if he focused hard enough, mixed in with the exhilaration of staying alive. Her presence seemed to envelop him as it always did, as it always seemed to, urging a shudder of excitement through him and triggering the instincts inside him.

How she accepted him when he delved inside her. How warm she made him feel as he held her. How sweet she smelled when he had her in his—

A harsh sob came from beside him and dragged Dimitri from his thoughts.

He turned towards the sound, chased by the scent of blood.

Dorothea had her face pressed into Leonie’s back as she held one arm tight around her waist while another clutched at a deep wound in her torso.

“Shit…” hissed Sylvain, but before either of them could react, Flayn cried out from the courtyard.

“The wounded! Bring them here!”

Dimitri released a sigh he never realized he had been holding.

“Come on, Dorothea. We’re almost there.”

“G-gods, he got me good…” Dimitri made out her single phrase before they rode past and into safety. 

Soldiers continued filing into the monastery as the shadows along the hill swelled thick and ominous.

“You know…”

Dimitri glanced at the alpha beside him. “Yes…?”

“That’s the first time I’ve seen her cry.” Sylvain gazed out at the monstrous sea before them, thoughtful. He had a cut on his lip as well and Dimitri wondered if Ferdinand had given him that one too.

“Me too.” He murmured in reply.

Several more companies hurried past them, each more wounded than the last, and some with no wounded at all. How many of their missing brethren were still being ravaged out in the fields?

Byleth broke into the last stretch, saving Dimitri from inspecting the question any further. A resolution began gathering inside him.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Sylvain asked. 

Those eyes, golden-brown in the sun, gazed into his own. He replied, “I might be.”

“Oh? And what about Dedue?”

The name lingered in his chest with notes of regret.

“I ordered him to stay with the others and assist the wounded.” Dimitri found it difficult all of a sudden to keep eye contact. “Under any and all circumstances.”

“And what about me? Will you order me too?”

Dimitri gave a wry smile, one that Sylvain matched. “Would it change anything?”

The alpha laughed like he heard a good joke. 

“I didn’t think so…” Dimitri looked away towards the horizon where they would both go once Byleth returned.

“I’d say the only regret I have…” Sylvain began, “… never mind.”

“No, tell me.” Dimitri pressed him.

Their eyes met for an instant and then Sylvain’s flicked away. Frenzy began collecting in his glands as he smirked. “You wouldn’t get it anyway.”

Happiness blossomed in his chest.

Dimitri snapped his gaze back towards the last individual on the battlefield and he made to run to her. “Byleth—!” He called out, reaching towards her, suddenly so desperate to touch her hand, until a roar blasted from inside the gates. The loudest roar he had ever heard in his life.

Something popped in his ear and then blood began running down the side of his face.

Dimitri fell to his his knees, Sylvain landing beside him in a similar state. He began raising both hands to stop the ringing in his ears when the earth rumbled.

Another roar, this time from the field ahead of them. Dimitri completed the spell, then opened his eyes.

A dragon had alighted next to Byleth.

The sight froze him in place.

The creature resembled art given life, as large as it must be ancient. Brilliant scales stretched bluish-white across compact muscle in its arms and legs. The color reminded Dimitri of the rare pearls in his mother’s jewelry, touted from southern regions in the alliance.

Then the dragon lowered its head towards his mate and began to move its jaw.

It could speak.

* * *

The thread linking them pulled taut as the dragon landed.

Its wings eclipsed the sun, shrouding Byleth in a brief respite from its glare. Pristine claws touched down on the grass, palms crushing the surface of the earth beneath its sheer mass.

Byleth shouldn’t have known. This creature might have flown in from the mountains surrounding the monastery. 

She should have known _who _this was and yet, she knew. There was no doubt.

The dragon bore a crest, the designation of an omega, one that Byleth had already linked to her magic. This dragon was—

“Rhea.” Byleth whispered, her voice wavering at the enormity of this truth. “Rhea, is that you?”

A low rumble issued from the dragon’s throat in a lilt that sounded almost appreciative_. _A hot breath blanketed her neck and upper body—bearable, comforting even— as it lowered its head down to Byleth.

“It is,” the dragon said, the feminine voice exuding distorted from its throat. “I wish I could have revealed my true form to you any other way. But the world is not so kind…”

Rhea would have only transformed as a last resort. Her decision suddenly became clear.

“You’re going to fight them alone. Aren’t you?”

“You almost sound concerned.” The archbishop chuckled.

The wryness in her voice caught Byleth off guard. “I am.” She replied. “How could I not?”

“I’ve done you wrong. More wrong than you could ever know.” Rhea said it like a confession.

The words stirred something in her mind and then, for an instant, the memory of her father arose along with the truth he seemed so desperate to tell before he died. A truth that had driven him from the monastery years ago after his wife’s death. He had suspected Rhea and then that suspicion had turned into fear.

Maybe the older woman _had_ done her wrong. Maybe there had been a far greater justification for Jeralt’s feelings all this time. Perhaps Rhea had been the reason why there was something so _wrong _with her—

“Then…”

A single, iridescent eye took her in as words fell into place from somewhere deep in her heart. Life seemed to slow around them even as the monsters gained ground, creating a timeless space where they alone existed. 

Byleth spoke words meant only for Rhea herself. Not the archbishop, or the omega. Words meant for the true form that stood before her now, a form at once terrifying yet glorious.

“Then, I forgive you. Even if what you’ve done can’t be forgiven.”

The all-encompassing eye blinked once, long and slow, listening to every word.

Byleth gasped when she felt it.

An answering response vibrated along the thread that tied Rhea to her. An impossible, _influential_ push that only a dragon might be capable of doing, one that did not require a mating bond with her.

“Remember the secret I shared with you, Byleth.” Rhea said. The statement sounded more a plea than a question. “You will need it if you wish to survive in this world as I have, as my mother wished she could have.”

“Your mother…?” The cryptic answer distracted her from reacting in time to the gust of wind that shattered the frozen calm enveloping them. “Wait!” She cried out, but it was too late.

Great, reptilian wings flung out into the blue expanse of the sky and the dragon that was Rhea departed the ground with a single leap.

Too many emotions ran through her at once as the archbishop took flight and they left Byleth standing alone at a precipice.

A precipice between two possibilities.

Dimitri touched her through their bond as she considered her choices, his need gripping her like a vise.

She looked towards her mate where he stood watching as if suspended in avid fascination.

The monsters might overtake the monastery before the main force withdrew so Rhea sought to buy them more time.

But could she do it alone? Could she handle the creatures in their entirety?

She felt the dangerous trembling of the line that still connected them even as the thought arose. Trembling, vibrating.

Shaking!

Byleth was already turning around, every muscle tensing in her legs as she crouched down, burning a message in her mind. Horror speared through her chest and served as a cruel reminder of the wrong she was about make, the precipice that she had picked.

Risking her life.

Then Byleth bound forward with the strength from her crest and into the fray.

* * *

The scream from outside the gates sounded like a wounded animal, stirring Ashe until his heart raced.

The roar from earlier along with a blinding light had incapacitated everyone in the courtyard and now Ashe turned, wary yet prepared, for what came next.

Sylvain flew through the opening. He swept the courtyard with his inhuman eyes until they landed on him, then sped forward and closed the distance between them with long, powerful strides in a matter of seconds.

“Ashe,” He said, his height forcing Ashe to tilt his head up. “I need a mount.”

He tamped down the desire to cower before his own classmate as the noble brimmed with the restrained energy that also granted him a feral gaze and astonishing strength. Sylvain also had a horrific history with horses that made hesitation work his jaw as he thought of a reply to the alpha before him.

His studies as adopted nobility had helped him maintain a level of control when seeing his friends transform. It informed him of the differences between alphas and omegas, of their ability to communicate emotions using scent. It reminded him of the times he spent wondering what scent—

Ashe bit his tongue to divert his thoughts.

His knowledge gave him some control over how he reacted to those like Sylvain. A small but welcome advantage.

Ashe straightened up against the taller figure and replied without faltering, “Alright.”

Then he placed two fingers in his mouth and blew a piercing whistle. Sharp neighing came from behind him and Ashe reach back to grab the reins when a large shadow fell upon him.

Sylvain knocked sideways into his shoulder, pushing him away just in time for a large dog-like creature to land on top of him.

“Sylvain!” Ashed cried out. Then he calmed as he realized that the tip of a spear protruded from its black, mottled back.

“Fuck, they’ve broken through!” Sylvain cursed as the creature sank its teeth into him in its death throes.

Several more shadows hurtled past the monastery walls and Ashe had already notched an arrow to aim at a monster that had landed amongst the wounded when an axe head buried into its neck.

“Have you seen Claude!” Hilda exclaimed as she leapt on to her thrown weapon and tore the axe from the beast’s neck in a spray of black blood.

“Nah,” Sylvain threw the beast atop him on to the ground. He had torn its belly open with the removal of his spear. “But I’m sure he’s fine. Ashe,”

Ashe braced himself.

“Take your horse and find Dedue. He’s past the gates.”

Worry sparked in his mind as he couldn’t keep from asking, “Did something happen with Dimitri? The professor?”

“Yes and yes.” Sylvain flung his spear at the nearest beast and smirked in triumph as he met his mark. “He’ll take it from there!”

“Got it.” Ashe blew hard into his fingers once more and Dorte came galloping over from where she had taken shelter.

“Wait!” a voice called to him and Ashe turned, a hand on the reins, to see Mercedes as she ran towards him, robes flying.

“Where are you going, Mercie?” Annette cried from behind her and his heart leaped. “The others…!”

“Take me with you.” Mercedes had her hands clasped like a prayer, an urgency in her voice that couldn’t be ignored.

He helped her on to the saddle without another word and she whispered her thanks.

“Wait, don’t…” A small hand grasped his shoulder and Ashe found himself gazing into the delicate face he searched for often during battle. Annette pleaded. “Please don’t do this…”

“We’ll be back before you know it, Annie. It’ll be fine.” Mercedes whispered with a smile.

Annette stood close to him, so close he could see the freckles sprinkled across her nose. Like his own but lighter and prettier. He could see her flushed cheeks as she fought back tears. A faint sweetness lingered on her person even with the blood staining the grass and cobblestones around them. He needed every last ounce of self-control to keep his eyes from drifting down to her lips, from leaning in towards those wide, green eyes.

How had he taken this long to realize? How had he…

“I’ll bring Mercedes back to you safe and sound.” Ashe said, speaking for as long as he could without his breath hitching.

Then he covered her hand with as much pressure as he dared. He felt her warmth even through his leather gloves.

“I promise.”

Then he squeezed her hand enough to move her, fighting back the desire to pull towards him instead, so that he could mount his horse. He could feel her gaze on his back as he mounted his horse with Mercedes behind him and flicked the reins.

“I _promise_.” He whispered again, catching her eye once more as Mercedes clung tight to his sides before they galloped away.

* * *

His flesh burned.

The frenzy— blood-wrath— torched Dimitri alive on the inside. Melted and churned him until there was nothing left but a wrathful mass.

He could taste blood in his mouth from when he had bitten down into his own flesh at the onset. His flew down the path his mate had taken after making her decision and he saw an endless red.

He tore at the creatures as he passed them with his entire being, dark flesh giving way beneath his bare hands, beheading some and impaling others with his lance. Their blood fell hot and tasteless against his tongue, his rage fueling their destruction.

How could she choose to risk her life?

He could feel her getting closer now, her slender form visible in the distance. Something shuddered through him at the sight, blood-wrath warping his emotions, as he cleared a path towards that beacon in a red expanse.

He had always known that his psyche hung by a thin thread since the events at the holy tomb. His psyche had hung thin perhaps even since the tragedy. It had taken so little to reduce him to this.

An unthinking, uncontrollable…

Dimitri closed in on her position and her familiar scent seemed to wash over him, his mind relaxing a little, the world less red.

Yet somehow she continued to ground him.

His vision began to clear. Little by little, her presence brought his wildness to light and shame rippled through him at the depravity, how his mind had fallen to such depths and so quickly.

He resembled nothing more than a mindless, rutting animal that wished nothing more than to feel his omega between his hands, to taste her cunt and fill her with his seed, driven by the thought that not even a lifetime with her would sate him.

Then danger snatched the blood-wrath away.

The death knight materialized from the teeming horde like a specter in the night, his cruel scythe in hand.

“Byleth…” Her name left him even as the knight had yet to move, but every part of his being knew what came next. “Watch out!”

He surged forward before the weapon went flying, blade hissing in the air.

Byleth snapped towards him in shock when he reached her and his hands fell upon her shoulders.

_My mate_… His soul whispered as he pulled her into his embrace. “Byleth, I…”

Then the scythe pierced through his armor and buried itself into his back.

* * *

“No, no…” So many questions ran through her head as Dimitri went limp in her arms.

Dedue should have stopped him before he could set foot outside the gates. She had seen to it that the duscan would, yet here he was. Had something happened?

She dared not draw upon his strength as she summoned light to her palms to ease the blood-loss that seeped in rivulets from the weapon embedded in his flesh.

“Byleth, I…”

“Don’t say any more,” she whispered. The blood continued to flow at a dangerous rate, her skill insufficient. “It won’t stop bleeding—”

Dimitri suddenly gripped her hard. “He’s coming!” He hissed and the sound of racing hooves rushed into her ears as he spoke.

Byleth pulled him in tight and together they dodged to the side, but not far enough.

The death knight reached down as he passed and caught the protruding handle. 

Dimitri screamed in pain when the blade ripped from his back before landing hard in the grass.

She held him down with one hand, sending the only magic keeping him alive into his body as she arched over him with a knee down like a proper omega protecting her mate. The creator sword lay beyond her reach and she had no choice but to will the strongest flame she could cast into her palm. 

The knight had galloped a short distance away, enough for him to gather the momentum needed to run them both through with his blade. Then began rushing back their way. He extended his arm, horned mask blazing with triumph, as he gained ground.

Byleth knew what needed to come next if her attack should fail.

“Don’t—! Urgh!” Dimitri grabbed at the soft flesh of her hip, exposed by her clothing, and pulled at her even when blood came up his throat.

Byleth kept her magic even as the death knight bore down on them, so confident in his ability to kill that he cared not for her abilities. He came within range and, to a third eye, the end seemed inevitable.

Byleth released her spell, aiming a fraction lower than expected and several things happened at once.

The flame scorched his mount, forcing it to rear up and sideways, diverting his attack. The death knight reared with his steed and almost regained control when an arrow pierced the horse in the eye.

The horse bucked, feet leaving the ground altogether, and collapsed mid-air, forcing its rider to leap from the stirrups.

Byleth whipped her head towards the attacker and, as she turned, a presence pulled at her divine magic, followed by a burst of light.

Dimitri gasped in sore relief as air returned to his lungs again.

There, a great distance away, Mercedes leaned with her palm outstretched as Ashe guided Dorte along a dangerous path, dodging creatures left and right. Tears streamed from his eyes as they galloped and Byleth couldn’t help but wonder if his arrow had struck the horse by accident.

Then metallic footsteps caught her attention.

Dimitri forced himself to a knee, edging her aside to cover her as the death knight returned on foot, weapon in hand.

“I won’t let him touch you.” Her alpha growled, even as he had nothing but his bare hands and weakened body.

“No, Dimitri,” Byleth said, “That’s not—”

“You’re everything to me.” He whispered and her breath caught in her throat.

He looked back at her, his natural scent mixed with traces of blood-wrath, eyes still wild yet beautiful, then pushed to his feet.

Byleth rose with him, arms ready in case he lost balance.

“As are you.” She whispered back, even as her heart trembled with fear for his life, and he proceeded to fill her with an emotion so tender that she almost staggered under its intensity. “_Oh_…”

“I have been desiring to kill you since we first met.”

But that shared intimacy came to end when the death knight began to speak.

“Now, I will finally have the chance.”

They both steeled themselves as the knight changed his stance for a brutal assault when the unexpected happened.

A massive set of dragon claws smashed the death knight to the ground followed by the silhouette of the dragon as the ground rumbled at her rapid descent.

“Gods…” Dimitria gasped, awed by the sight. “Byleth, did you see…?”

Something fast-moving appeared in the corner of her eye.

There was no time to think.

She grabbed Dimitri by the collar as tight as she possibly could, surged what felt to be the last of their collective magic into her muscles, and threw her mate away from her with all her might.

Right after he cleared her reach, a roaring mass blasted into all of them.

Then exploded.

* * *

Byleth came to with her forearm in a painful grip, legs dangling, and a roiling fear that was not her own.

She was hanging off a cliff. Dimitri had her by the arm, his chest pressed against what little ground he could find purchase on. Blood flowed from him on to her. His wound had opened up again.

He didn’t have the strength to pull her back up.

“Rh-Rhea… the others…” Byleth struggled to speak and only then did she comprehend the exhaustion to which they both endured.

“Are fine,” Dimitri gasped. “They’re fine. Just… I just… need to catch my breath.”

“You’re lying…” Her voice refused to come out louder than a whisper. “You need to stop…”

“No!” He coughed red down his chin and her heart clenched in concern. “No, I will never do that. _Never_.”

She could feel his senses slipping, like the flame in a flickering candle. “Dimitri, please…”

Burnt oak met her senses and Byleth almost smiled at her favorite scent in the whole world.

“Let me go.” She lifted her other hand to where their skin met, clothing burnt from the explosion, and clasped it with all her might. “Dimitri, please you have to let me go.” She managed to loosen his hold ever so slightly.

“Don’t do this to me.” He whispered.

“I love you.”

An incredible shock rocked down her form as Dimitri shook with the emotion. “Wh-what?” He asked, unable to believe his ears.

“I said I love you, Dimitri” Byleth smiled through the exhaustion pulling at her from every way. Her eyes began to burn and something wet gathered at her lashes. Something warm. “I’m sorry I never got the chance to tell you until now. I love you so much.”

She slipped her fingers along his palm and begun working her way beneath his hand when he said,

“**_Don’t_**,” and obedience arrested her entire body, unable to make another move. “_I won’t let you_.”

Byleth fought the sudden compulsion infused in his voice, fought until she trembled from the effort.

Then she heard a sound she hoped to never hear again. Once more, armored footsteps, and her chest twisted in terror, the effort of maintaining control deafening her mate to danger.

Byleth closed her eyes.

Then she reached for the contention inside their interlaced magic, at the pressure that formed in the seam where compulsion ended and obedience began. She would find and undo that twist in the layer, that imperfection. Then perhaps she might be able to return the favor.

Byleth did as Rhea taught her and by the time Dimitri realized what happened she had already wound her magic around his. Then she _pulled_.

“**_Let go_**.” She commanded, love and hope for the alpha above her swelling her heart until she almost came undone. “**_Save yoursel_**_f_**.**”

His hand released her as she instructed and Byleth began to fall. A growing gap separated them as Dimitri watched her, stunned at what she made him do.

They would later become the first, recorded incident of a mated omega resisting and then returning the compulsion of their alpha.

Dimitri rolled to his back and raised his arms to defend himself in accordance with her final demand. The accursed death knight appeared over his prone form and attacked like she had anticipated.

The cliff flew even further from sight.

Then came a bright flash and the knight now stood alone at the precipice, observing her fall.

Relief rushed through her. Dimitri had been warped away. By who, she couldn’t tell, but at the very least he had survived.

Her consciousness was fading now, but she welcomed the darkness this time, accepting its empty embrace.

And fell into a deep, deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part I Fin


	21. Part I: Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CONTENT TRIGGER WARNING**  
This chapter contains a sensitive topic that I consider to be more controversial than what I've written up to now. There's nothing graphic about it, but there's no denying that it's presented in here. Please skip this epilogue if you feel you don't want to risk it or message me on discord (shoyou100) for exactly what is so controversial about this chapter. I will warn everyone again if this topic comes up in another future chapter or I may just put it in as a tag. 
> 
> If you accept the risk, please read on....

“Ah, foolish girl…” Sothis murmured as she lounged in her throne, legs crossed and head leaning into her hand. “Months of silence after merging with you and now this.”

The throne room surrounding her stretched into endless darkness, which Sothis knew to be a projection of the mind. A space that existed outside reality.

Floating before her throne, the girl in question lay unconscious and wrapped in shimmering light that indicated ancient magic. _Her_ magic. The girl had fallen to her death and only quick thinking had allowed both of them to survive. 

“Silly girl, if only you hadn’t met him…” She sighed, then shook her head. “No, no this was fate. It was inevitable that you became so close to each other. No amount of complaining will change that.”

A separate light danced in her open palm, one less bright and beginning to fade. Sothis toyed with this one as it wavered between life and death. The illumination from a soul had always comforted her, but this time the implications were different.

“I could have reincarnated with this.” She sighed again. “You two really have been the death of me, but well…”

The soul sputtered as it struggled to hold on to a more substantial form.

“I suppose it’s not your fault. After all, you’ve already been through enough trouble because of me.”

Sothis looked back to the girl, to the slender arms and smoothness of her skin. All features desired in an omega. “You were even forced to take my designation instead of living life as a beta like your peers. You could have even gone back to being one had this come to fruition.”

The soul in her hand fluttered one last time before dying away in a shower of sparks. 

“A life for a life. Hah, I wonder if I should even tell you.” Sothis leaned back against the cool stone and closed her eyes, sinking into the seat below. “Or perhaps not. I’m not sure yet. The magic in your bond is all I have left now to keep you alive, however long that lasts.”

She waved her hand and the light surrounding the girl brightened as a new layer, even stronger than the last, covered her like a cocoon.

“It may take months, even years to run its course. Your mate will be spared an instant separation from you, but it will still be difficult. I’m afraid time will affect that boy especially with how much you mean to him. But…!”

Sothis clapped her hands with enthusiasm, voice never skipping a beat, as she prepped herself for the long wait ahead.

“What’s done is done! Now you have a chance to see him again, if that child survives, which I think he will. Your alpha is strong, very strong. Perhaps even as strong as _him_…”

The memories washed over her as they had many times before.

“And he loves you, almost as much as _he _could have.” Sothis frowned. “But the man wanted me so much that he killed me, instead, then feasted on my flesh and used my bones.”

Her eyes misted over as she waded through those last few tragic years of her long life.

“The boy has the potential to be many things but, unfortunately, that path is one of them. I must have given you my taste in men on top of everything else.”

She laughed aloud at the thought, her lone voice echoing into the vastness.  
  


“In that case, all the better to keep it from you.”

Pity entered her heart as Sothis leaned into her hand again, back to where the scene began.

“You were with child after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the natural progression the story ended up taking in order to explain how Byleth lived even after a fall that should've killed her and for there to be a personal consequence for her that matched the severity of what occurred in Part I.
> 
> Outside a heat, omegas can still conceive and, even when our characters are careful, without protection there is still a chance that conception can happen. 
> 
> Also, I will now be adding the tragedy tag to this fic as the next five years in addition to this incident will be enough to warrant it.


	22. Part II, Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II

Byleth dreamed she was floating.

Floating, drifting, down, down to a place she once knew yet no longer remembered. Fragments and colors flitted in confused staccatos through a dark world. Muted and sightless she drifted without aim until light filtered through a seam in the ceiling. Gentle and kind.

_It is time_.

A voice called to her, filled with certainty. Anticipation.

_It is time!_

The voice persisted and Byleth tried to respond but her body felt so heavy.

_I leave you a parting gift until we meet again, for it is our fate. Now wake up!_

Something cool touched her forehead, holding down firm before slipping away like the graze from a feather.

Then a torrent of broken words and images.

A flower, the ancient throne, a dragon bearing six wings beneath a reddened sun, words and whispers unraveling their meanings in a language before her time. Light swelled between the seams, before pulling apart like torn cloth, as the seams became her eyelids and the light became something Byleth had not seen for a long time.

The sun.

* * *

Byleth awoke to sunlight filtering in between branches and leaves.

A forest.

Her skin shifted against something thick and warm, like wool, enveloping everything save her head and shoulders. She had nothing on except her underclothes. Someone had stripped her.

A sudden wind cut through the branches overhead and Byleth remained comfortable. Faint smoke curled off her skin like breaths in winter, a sign that her temperature still ran higher than normal. A hard material kept her head raised from the forest floor. 

Byleth tried sitting up.

The world tilted like a spinning wheel as soon as she raised her shoulders, causing Byleth to gasp and slump back like an alcoholic.

Like Manuela on one of her crazier nights.

Her body ached, then a groan escaped her as she covered her face with both hands at the sensations that began spilling over her limbs. She felt hollowed out, as if something were missing.

Leaves cracked beneath a weight.

“You’re finally awake.” A man said and time came to a standstill.

Gravelly, tired, but the voice was un-mistakeable.

“Jacob?” Byleth rasped. “Is that you?”

He paused and the trees rustled one more time. “Yeah…” Jacob replied.

Relief spread through her. “Water…” She whispered. Her throat burned with every word. Raising her head took effort. “Do you have…?”

The mercenary made no move to approach her.

Byleth tried getting up again, her gut turning with every motion. “Why aren’t you—?”

Then the sickness that had been collecting in her belly flew up in a rush and she fell to the side, emptying the contents to the ground.

Jacob laughed. “I was wondering when you were gonna cough that shit up.”

Byleth sipped from a waterskin as she lay in a fresh set of clothes and soft wool against a tree. Meanwhile, her cohort rested beside a thick, leather pack, legs crossed and hand resting on a knee. He chewed a piece of bread as they considered one another.

He had more lines on his face than she remembered, hair paler than ever and longer now, tied back with string. Age, however, had done little to affect his build. A thick-set swordsman who should not be underestimated. He stank like he’d been on the road for a while. 

“How long?” She asked.

“You must have been there for a day, maybe less.” He replied.

“No.” Byleth shook her head. “I don’t mean the riverside. How long has it been since I…” The words stuck for some reason, images flitting past her mind’s eye as she struggled to find a word appropriate for what happened to her. She settled on one. “... left.”

Jacob eyed her with what seemed like both amusement and exhaustion. He had always been shrewder than the others and Byleth wondered what he saw in her now.

He took his time answering, measuring the situation at hand, gauging for the right words that would temper the truth he needed to reveal.

“You’ve been gone, Byleth,” he murmured, “gone for so long that they stopped searching for you.”

Her heart leapt in eagerness. “Who’s they?” She asked.

“All of us. The company, the church. Your students.”

Her stomach churned again, though it had nothing to do with the river water this time.

“That green-haired man, the serious one. He kept sayin’ you were still alive somewhere. That all we had to do was find you.” Jacob shrugged. “But who knows where he was getting that information? I found you again after five years and it was only by accident—”

_Years. _

The waterskin flew from her hands as Byleth leapt up— or tried. She could only imagine how she looked. Anxious and riled. Fearful. She was afraid for her students, afraid for her—

Her legs crumpled beneath her weight and Jacob moved to help her.

“Dammit, don’t,” Byleth muttered even as he had her by the arm, his strength the only thing letting her stand.

“Don’t be stubborn, Byleth,” Jacob scolded as he steadied her. “You can’t imagine how many times you tripped as a kid. I’ve been catching you like this since the beginning.”

Byleth laughed, though it sounded more like a weak chuckle. Since when had her body become so frail? Not even at the end when she had hung from a cliffside by someone else’s strength had she felt so—

Byleth clutched at Jacob’s leather forearm as the pieces fell in place and her legs threatened to give out beneath her again.

Weak and hollow.

Empty.

All of a sudden she wanted to cry and, without her bidding, he arose in her memories. The tender blueness in his eyes, his smile and radiance, that part of her soul.

She reached inside with a desperation that began to drown her, but the space within had shut without a trace.

The bond had been broken. 

* * *

“Do you see ‘em?” Jacob asked.

“Yes.” Byleth answered. They peered through a gap in the brush where they had crouched down at Jacob’s signal, careful not to rustle the leaves.

The armor Jacob had given her fit snug and comfortable against the skin, bending with her as she moved, the sensation grounding as she continued to exist in a world that had moved on without her. That had taken so many precious things from—

Byleth ended the thought before it could roll into an unstoppable flood.

Figures roamed amidst ruins in a field, the remnants of a small town. The towers of Garreg Mach lay beyond it. 

“… men from the nearby village but they’ve taken to thievin’ and murderin’ when times got hard.” His voice faded back into her attention. She had refocused in time. “Back in the day, we might’ve taken them but you’re still recovering and I’m not a young sprout anymore.”

“Has anyone else passed by these last few weeks?” She asked, ignoring the stone that settled in her chest as she did. 

“Yes, but no one of note. Just a few roving bands here and there, though by now they’ve either been roped into this larger group or killed.”

“I see…”

A hand touched Byleth on the shoulder and she turned.

Jacob wore the gentle expression he often used back during the days when the children teasing turned rough or a fight hadn’t gone the way Byleth wanted it to. Even when her emotionless bearing had driven others away, Jacob had always been there for her in some way or another. If she were to label him, he would be the closest thing she ever had to an uncle. 

“Don’t worry about it, the people you’re looking for will turn up soon enough.”

“How do you know?” Byleth asked, feeling if the world weighed down on her shoulders.

“I just got a feeling.” He replied and his smile eased the burden ever so much.

* * *

Byleth traced her sword in an arc above her, rolling out muscles she hadn’t used for years as a campfire threw her shadow in flickering relief against the ground. Jacob had deemed it safe to light one tonight.

Five years.

The sword tip wavered from where she held it at arm’s length and Byleth ignored the returning nausea, from thoughts that turned into accusations and threatened to pierce her heart.

Despite this, however, her strength had returned and her dominant arm no longer shook when she held a weapon. Her defense remained steady.

“You’re looking like yourself again.” Jacob emerged from the trees with a clean kill, the neck broken in a single twist. “Another day and you’ll be ready.”

“When are we going?” Byleth swept into the next move, blade severing the grass on the way. The weapon handled well, but unlike what she preferred.

Jacob had found her unarmed, the creator sword nowhere to be seen.

“Actually,” He said as he bent down to sit beside his pack and took out a skinning knife. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

She sheathed her sword.

“Oh?” Byleth asked and tensed. They had agreed this morning that the monastery would be their next destination.

“Come with me to rally the rest of the company. They’re a day’s march away, rarin’ to go. You’ve seen the size of that bandit camp. We’re going to need reinforcements.”

She had expected this. “I won’t force you to come, Jacob. I can go alone.”

“No.” He replied, knife never faltering as he prepared their meal and eyes focused on the task at hand, but Byleth had expected this as well.

“A smaller force can infiltrate the monastery without alerting the others,” she continued, the words almost rote from her teachings. A strange mixture of emotions rippled through her at the thought as she promised once more to keep her mind from straying to those times. To stay practical. “Like you said, in another day I’ll be ready.”

The emptiness inside, however, the absence of the bond, sent a tremor through her being.

Jacob completed his task. He raised his head when Byleth joined him by the fire and she schooled her face into the neutral expression she once became legendary for.

“We’ll talk again in the morning,” he murmured, “let’s just eat and rest for the night. For all we know, it may be the last peace we have in a while.”

The meat sizzled as he began roasting it on a spit fashioned from a fallen branch.

The flames crackled. Like they had since the beginning of time.

Time.

Byleth hid her clenched hands beneath the scabbard resting across her lap as she watched the fire burn.

She had slipped through its seams like sand in an hourglass, disappearing from the world, from everyone, for an impossible interval. Their lives had moved on in a hellish landscape that had stolen countless lives since its inception while hers had only just started stirring again.

What had Sothis meant by the strange words and images sent into her mind? What did any of it even mean?

Then her stomach growled and Jacob chuckled.

“Here.”

He handed her some meat on a small skewer— he made this one like he had the spit— and, even as she bit down into the meal, Byleth found herself more impressed with the stick than the meat.

In another life, he would have made an excellent carpenter.

“Tell me the rest of the story.” Byleth said. Her soul yearned for the answer. “Tell me what happened after the battle.”

Jacob held up his own skewer. “You won’t like what you hear.” He said.

“Tell me anyway.” She replied.

He began studying her again like he always did, seeking the answers in both her body language and her face, even if she had had years experience in controlling both. She wondered how many times he had seen her trembling. He bit into the meat and chewed for a time.

Then he said, “Alright then.”

* * *

On the journey back to the main camp, soldiers waylaid them.

An entire platoon.

“Get down! Imperials!” Jacob hissed and they retreated into the woods, away from the road. The foliage hid them well, darkened by the angle of the sun.

Row after row the soldiers passed by on horses and feet that stirred dust clouds above the trees as they marched towards a common objective. As the unit advanced into the horizon, Byleth realized that they must be headed for one place in particular.

Garreg Mach.

Sword in hand, her feet began moving as she knew what needed to happen next.

She had almost reached the road when she heard haphazard rustling behind her and then Jacob demanded, “Where are you going?”

Byleth turned to him. “Where I should’ve gone from the beginning.” She said.

He looked even older in the light, the wrinkles on his face standing out in greater detail. The war had taken its toll.

“I’m going after them.” She continued. “There’s a reason why they’re here and I need to find out what.”

“Gods dammit.” Jacob muttered. “I saw this coming.”

Then he leaned against a tree and crossed his arms, closing his eyes. A breeze blew by, catching several strays from his forehead.

“You think one ‘em’s up there don’t you?” He mused. “Maybe one of your students.”

Her chest clenched. “Yes.” She replied, anticipation already beginning to settle in her bones. Her limbs ached to set off for the monastery, but a part of her refused to leave without his approval. She needed him on her side—

“Well alright then.” Jacob nodded, reminiscent of the night before. He opened his eyes.

Byleth almost lost her footing. “You’re not stopping me?” She asked, disbelieving.

“You’ve already made up your mind.” He replied. “Looks like I’ll have no choice but to bring the camp to you.”

Her lips twitched, gratitude soaring. “So, reinforcements then?” She asked.

Their eyes met.

“Reinforcements.” Jacob confirmed. “And we’ve been doing better than you think, you’ll be seeing a few familiar faces when we meet again.”

He looked to the east.

“The camp’s a day away so I’ll have them staged by tomorrow night. And in case those bandits get riled up from any commotion you cause at the monastery, we’ll be near the ruins with an ambush. Even better if they clash with the imperials. Bandit camp might get a little bigger if they do but at least one of ‘em will scatter.”

“Jacob.” She called his name, a grin playing at the edge of her lips. 

“Yes?” He turned, distracted from his tactics.

“Thank you.”

Jacob smiled for the two of them, light eyes appreciative. “Anytime, Byleth. Anytime.”

The soldiers entered the monastery and then never returned. 

Byleth watched, from afar, the place where the fields and monastery stones met, where the soldiers had marched through peeling, aged doors that lay bare the contents within.

Red light from the late sun pooled over the field that carried her final memories, strewn with abandoned weapons, armor….

Corpses.

There could be no denying the imperfections in the ground where irregular mounds mottled the old battleground, imperial red indiscriminate from blue and silver. The years had been unkind to the soldiers slain from both sides, the monastery such a dangerous territory that neither force could afford to retrieve its dead.

It was towards this carnage that Byleth directed her feet. She would not be following the same path as the soldiers, however.

Instead, she approached a door built into the monastery base and away from plain sight, created with the same material as its surroundings. It leaned ajar with enough space to fit her fingers.

The metal hinges groaned with neglect as Byleth pried it open to reveal a pitch-dark passageway, releasing years of dust and smells that tickled her nose. Mustiness. 

She had known about this particular escape route, but had never used it herself. It led through a trap door that would bring her to the chapel entrance.

A shudder started along her neck and then shivered through her body. Byleth didn’t know how she knew, but the feeling could not be denied.

Something was waiting for her at the other side of the trap door. Friend or foe, she couldn’t tell.

Byleth closed the door behind her, shutting out all light, and then summoned magic into her palm, revealing an empty hallway and a gradual flight of stairs.

The passage had been unused, which meant the retreat had been efficient enough to only require primary escape routes. Or that many failed to escape.

Byleth shook her head at the absurdity. They had survived like Jacob told her. As for what happened after….

She needed to move on else her thoughts might consume her.

With that in mind, she took the first step.

The worries still came as she traversed the stairwell. 

Rhea had disappeared after the battle after all.

No one, not even the remaining forces Seteth gathered in the immediate aftermath could identify her whereabouts.

Retreating into the mountains, he maintained a limited defensive force— one the mercenary company contributed greatly to, according to Jacob— that could re-infiltrate the monastery, though the greatest difficulty lay in retaining the territory.

For that they needed the cooperation of the Kingdom and the Alliance and so the house leaders had departed for their respective nations.

But something had gone wrong.

Byleth halted on the next step and the fire in her hand fluttered as if dying. She tried to bring herself under control, but the wretched fact still rose in her memory.

One of them never returned.

Jacob knew little of what happened, the truth mere whispers and rumors abound, but what resistance they built fell apart afterwards in a matter of months.

There could be another explanation for the destroyed bond. There had to be. Otherwise what was she even—

Byleth gasped and pushed the thoughts away, tried to will away the ugly monster in her mind waiting for her to wade too deep. If she didn’t press forward, she might kneel here on the steps. Kneel here and never move again.

She had commanded him to live, hoping he would do so and breaking his heart, then the world had gone ahead and—

Fire-orange petals.

Byleth startled at the unexpected imagery as they flowered in her mind, almost falling back. She caught on to a protruding stone in time.

Words fell on the tip of her tongue and she could not bring herself to speak them no matter how hard she tried. Sothis had granted her knowledge, but the entirety still remained out of reach. Frustration welled inside her, until she realized her mind no longer felt mired. The image had appeared to her again without reason.

Yet, somehow, it filled her with hope.

Pouring more magic into her fire, the flames illuminated the path ahead once more.

Then Byleth breathed in, filling her chest with musty air but also tightening her body, bracing it, offering a temporary solace to the turmoil inside, and resumed the long journey up the steps.

The monastery had changed little in the past five years.

A withered garden surrounded her, one that once bloomed in decoration along the walkways that surrounded the chapel. The trap door lay open behind her. The setting sun bathed this corner of the monastery in its soft blend of orange, reds and yellows.

War had left this section untouched somehow, the grass undisturbed except for the wildflowers that had crept in over time. Even the stone in the steep stairs rising to the building above remained wearied by weather alone.

Beyond the stairs, however…

Byleth closed her eyes.

This part of the chapel held no memories for her but the holy grounds above would pose a different story.

Then the wind changed direction.

A faint bitterness curled the edges of her stomach and began an age-old pricking along her neck that had remained passive until now.

She sucked in a harsh breath and reached for her neck at the reaction, her nostrils flaring as she breathed in more of the undeniable scent coming from the chapel above.

“Impossible…” She whispered.

Then began drifting up the stairs as if in a dream.

Years before, clerics would sweep the chapel steps every morning before the fifth bell, catching the residue on their sleeves as they kept the floors clean for those attending service. Always, the ground stayed free of detritus as white-robed figures gathered each day to prepare the sanctuary for the new dawn.

So when Byleth came upon those same floors many years later, her heart turned cold. 

The soldiers had been slaughtered upon the steps. And the odor. Byleth turned away from the bloodshed.

The all-too-familiar smell of death.

She forged on, their bodies interspersed between each step as they brought her closer to the source. The ones responsible for the killing.

The stairwell emerged on to the landing before the chapel entrance, where the grounds ended and the bridge began, connecting the locale to the rest of the monastery.

Remains from the soldiers’ fatal wounds, still fresh, spread like a mosaic along the stone floor, blending with the light fading in from the early evening, filling her vision.

Byleth raised a hand to shield her eyes.

The red disc in the horizon emphasized the scene before her, cloaking corners in even deeper shadow. She could smell the bitterness again, stronger than ever before, so strong her eyes watered at the intensity—

A noise.

Her hand fell to her hip as she turned towards the disturbance— a whisper or a growl, the sound had been indistinguishable. Danger signaled to every sense in her body. Her fingers curled around the sword hilt.

There.

The source of the smell, bitter like an acid taste in her mouth. A large silhouette lingered in the corner where the stairwell began.

She heard a sound like cloth sliding over metal and the silhouette shifted, edges flurrying soft in the darkness and her glands itched with an agitation like never before. Instinct tightened her muscles.

Like prey awaiting the killing leap from a predator hidden amidst the trees.

The designation within her body reacted without her bidding and her fangs grew at the unsettling thought even as her heart remained steady. She would let this creature know its prey had teeth.

Then silhouette began to rise. And rise and rise.

Byleth had to raise her head to keep its entirety in sight.

Legs, a torso, an arm with a hand gripping a weapon. Human, one large enough to swallow her whole.

An alpha.

Then it growled.

An oppression suffocated her and Byleth shook without meaning to from her neck down to her toes, upper lip twitching in a sympathetic reaction born from her nature. She dared not move back. The wall would trap her in this suddenly too-small space. She had encountered this before, but had never been the recipient.

Open aggression from an alpha in blood-wrath.

Then it stepped forward and this time Byleth couldn’t keep from baring her fangs as she opened her mouth for a low growl when the evening light filtered in at a new angle and fell on its face. 

Her hand dropped from her sword.

Blonde hair, uncut and dirty with time, blood flecked along the corner of pale, cracked lips, a single bluish orb regarded her with unreadable emotion, the other concealed by black leather.

Byleth recognized him even in this wild state.

He had grown a great deal since she went away. Outfitted with blue-white furs and armor darker than night, he had lost an eye and war changed him, but he still looked as beautiful and striking as the day they met. The terrible fear she carried for the past three days finally came undone.

“Dimitri.” She whispered, lip beginning to tremble at seeing him again, shock drying her throat. “Dimitri, is that you?”

He had survived. 

Yet she could smell nothing but the continued existence of his altered state as he proceeded to gaze upon her in silence, shoulders spanning almost twice her own. Her traitorous body shivered from mere proximity to the designation designed to match her very being, her chest beginning to rise and fall with an escalating need to take in the entirety of his scent. Blood-wrath permeated him, though her nature took no heed. His great height exposed her throat as she searched his face for a reaction, a sign. Anything.

“It’s me. Byleth.” She whispered.

His free hand twitched at his side and hope sparked inside her.

“Dimitri.” She lifted a hand towards his face. First tentative and then, when he didn’t flinch away from her movement, deliberate.

Her fingers ghosted against the skin below his lip as she had so long before when they had first mated. Then she caressed him with thumb, running the pad over his dry mouth, tracing beneath the lip until she could feel his pointed canine.

His single eye rose ever so much until it aligned with her own.

“Dimitri, I’m here for you now. Say something.”

He began raising his hand and Byleth tensed even when nothing changed in his expression. Accursed instincts.

His hand moved until the covered fingertips touched her chin and emotional memory brought forth affection from her in a shaking whisper, “Dimitri, I love you. I missed you so much.”

Then he leaned in and Byleth fell still, his much larger frame almost shrouding her as he closed the distance between their mouths. His breath blew smoldering and warm against her skin, an almost unbearable heat.

Byleth had her eyes fluttering closed when she heard him whisper his first words since meeting him again.

“You almost had me fooled.”

_Danger. _Byleth tried to flinch away but it was too late.

His hand closed over her throat.

She grabbed at her neck, prying at the line between metal and skin. She fought his choking hold but his blood-wrath fueled strength kept it tight as a vice.

He lifted her off the ground.

She struggled for air, kicking out and gasping at the sudden violence, but also at the expression he had as he did so. The whites in his eyes lined with bloodshot, pupil a savage slit in the frozen blue. Dimitri displayed his fangs in wild fury as he held her aloft and growled,

“Now I can put you to rest like the others.”


	23. Part II, Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II

Her breath came in strangled gasps as she ran, hurrying past stone railings, hair flying in a darkening sky.

Metal shards played notes on the stones behind her as they fell from a crack along her chest piece. A spear had pierced the armor, thrown by its owner after she had broken free. 

Breaths low and rough issued from behind as the alpha trailed her path along the bridge. Like a stalking beast.

Canines pressed into her lip, body brimming with energy, as the end neared, reception hall further ahead. Then she came to a halt.

Rubble blocked the way.

She whirled in time to see the alpha stop in the walkway middle, weaponless. Byleth glanced at the hand he used to choke her, and her neck throbbed in memory. He didn’t need a weapon to kill her.

“Nowhere to run.” He snarled. “Accept your fate, pretender.”

“I’m …” Byleth rasped, then pressed white light to her throat. His eye followed the movement. “…I’m not. I’m your teacher and your friend. I’m… I was…”

She felt at a loss for words.

“Someone you loved.”

Dimitri laughed, voice harsh with unfamiliar cynicism and it rattled her. “You and all the others.”

The phrasing sounded wrong, but then he stepped forward with such intent that Byleth dropped a hand to her hip.

And drew her sword. 

Dimitri bared his fangs. “Your words already ring hollow—”

Metal clanged as she threw it aside and he paused.

An opening.

Byleth dashed towards the railing with a burst of speed and—

His hand engulfed her upper arm and wrenched her towards him.

Her back slammed against his chest as a forearm spanned her stomach and crushed her to him. Again, he covered her throat, reaching from behind, fingers sliding under her chin and tracing the skin. His arm rested between her breasts, cheek pressed to her neck, tickling the hairs.

A thickness rose in her throat as her arms aligned with his and he trapped her against him, his warmth seeping through as his fingers closed in, beginning to choke.

Something stirred inside her.

Her mouth opened of its own accord and dipped down, sliding beneath his hand. Several of his fingers almost filled her entire mouth and she tasted blood.

Dimitri gave a strangled gasp.

Then she bit down, tearing through the fabric. 

And he lost control.

Byleth cried out when he pierced what little skin he could reach, metal blocking him from reaching her glands. Desire blacked out the sky as it seared down her chest then pooled between her legs, dampening them with slick. His breaths ran ragged and hot over her skin as he clutched at her breastplate, loosening the straps, hunger reverberating deep and full in his chest.

His mouth pulled away, then closed back down on the wound for a more permanent mark drawing out a soft gasp as he held her. He pressed into her back and even through the iron she could feel his growing need. Byleth slipped her hands between the gaps in her armor.

Then pushed.

The plating whipped out and smashed against the railing while she leapt from his arms. A fingertip whispered down her spine as if he tried reaching for her.

Wind gusted through the black shirt and bindings holding her breasts in place as she made her escape. She felt no coldness, only her elevated temperature as the mark branding her neck elicited waves through her body.

It elicited the desire to flee the wild alpha behind her. It elicited the desire to let him have her.

A roar from behind sent the blood rushing beneath her skin. Her ploy had set a new wheel in motion.

But first, he must catch her.

The moon waxed bright through the skylight and bathed the cathedral in silver. Beautiful, but flawed.

The roofing lay in shambles before the altar, piled high in small mountains with one larger than the rest. There Byleth turned and sprinted for the gardens outside.

A thin item whisked through the air and spiked into the ground, cutting her off.

He had thrown the weapon from the pews as he closed in, not speaking a word. The light emphasized the wide blue in his eye and he seemed incapable of speech, mindless with only a single goal.

She whirled to run the other way when his frame blocked either path. He drowned her in his scent. Her glands wept with overflowing want and, to her dismay, her throat issued an answering whine.

His jaw worked, then rolled open his mouth to expose canines drenched to the tip. The saliva dripped to his bottom lip then down his chin.

Byleth pressed a hand to where her breasts ached against the binding as they reacted to him.

Arousal. He was displaying blatant arousal.

Then he snapped his teeth back together and leaned in to close the distance.

Byleth sank into a brawler’s stance.

The alpha paused, eye running in appraisal over her crouched form, hovering over the gentle protrusions in the binding where her own attraction peeked. His nostrils flared as he took in her own aroused state and he shivered without restraint.

Byleth fisted her raised hands and flashed her fangs. “You need to wake up, Dimitri, and see it’s me.” She said. “And I’ll help you.”

A sliver of intelligence broke through. He raised his arm and Byleth braced but he had only reached up to clench his fingers into the furs along his neck. He tore them, cape and all, off his back and the magnificent fabric floated to the floor.

“I’ll enjoy taking you apart with my bare hands.” He growled. 

“Then come on—” She began.

Dimitri lunged and Byleth threw a fist at his exposed neck to stun him before he could latch on to her legs.

The fight had begun.

White light disrupted the night as Byleth healed her bruised and bloodied knuckles while clenching both legs around his waist, preventing him from mounting her.

She had crushed another dent into his armor before he finally took her down.

Dimitri reached for her throat and she countered, shoving his arm aside and coming in for an attack. She twisted her outer leg in superior flexibility from his waist to his throat and extended both arms for the weakness she created in his armor.

Her fingers flexed into the gap and Byleth heaved with all her might.

Metal smashed against wooden pews as she rid him of his own breastplate, revealing a material similar to hers underneath. Her movement, however, had exposed her wrist and Dimitri latched on with bruising relentlessness. 

“Dimi—!” She gasped at the pain.

She thought he loosened his hold ever so much.

Then he heaved forward, but Byleth anticipated his movement and used his momentum to throw him as she rolled.

His grip slackened and she broke free, snaking behind him before he could reach for her again and hooked her legs into his inner thighs, chest pressing flat against his back. Then she threw an arm around the naked skin of his throat, catching him beneath the chin, and trapped him in a rear choke.

“Yield.” She growled as the alpha in her arms pulled at her with terrifying strength. But she held on, as vicious and unrelenting as him, muscles straining with superhuman effort to keep him leaned back.

“Yield.” She said again, this time whispering in his ear.

Dimitri trembled with defiance and something else as his glands pressed close to her face in the struggle, to her lips. The instinct rose to lean into the covered skin, bringing her close to a line Dimitri had crossed long ago. To mark him like he had her, to take her share of his flesh and fill herself with his taste.

The alpha in her arms shuddered again and Byleth snapped to.

She had mouthed her fangs over the glands along his neck, pressing her tongue into the fabric, and Byleth trembled as slick gathered in the cotton of her pants upon realizing what she had done. Her grip loosened a fraction.

Dimitri twisted free with a grunt, moving to catch her in a mount but suffocation made him clumsy and she caught his hands before they touched her clothes, then threw him once more to the ground. This time, however, she traveled with him and mounted him instead.

Byleth pressed her plated forearm against his throat, keeping a low profile so he couldn’t buck her off-center, and ground down as hard as she dared.

“_Yield_.” She said in as ferocious a voice she could manage, chest heaving as she displayed her own fangs in aggression. Her thighs clamped down on either side of him, possessive and insistent.

His gaze froze on her face and she looked for acknowledgement, understanding, a sign he even heard her. His appearance remained indecipherable, yet somehow pacified all at once while sprawled beneath her.

Then he did the unthinkable.

Dimitri reached past her upper thigh, grasping the leather cupping her ass, and pressed her into him.

Something warm—impossibly hard—entered the space between her legs.

She released him in her confusion but the alpha made no move to get up or push her away. Instead he grasped her with his other hand and ground her slick-soaked space into his heat.

The sudden infusion of pleasure made Byleth taste blood again as she trembled at what he had done.

Too much, it was too much.

Dimitri had his canines displayed again, gleaming white in the moonlight as his head tilted towards the broken ceiling while she enveloped him. His chest rose and fell at an increasing rate as the most intimate parts of them touched and they began to fulfill what their bodies had been made for.

Then he thrust up into her from below enough to penetrate the clothed folds that protected the glands in her sex and Byleth could no longer contain herself.

“Dimitri!” She sobbed, pleasure clenching the muscles in her core and pulling him deeper inside her.

Her cry must have broken him, shattered the last inhibition he had against her. He rolled them both and blacked out the sky as he hovered over her like a man thirsting before a well, fingers gripping her thigh and ass tight in hushed desperation.

She gazed up at him, the man she knew as a prince of Faerghus, a boy who once loved her with all his heart. He considered her as if he had never seen anything like her before in his life. As if he did not know her and yet knew everything he could possibly know. A living contradiction.

Then, in a sweeping gesture, he dipped his face into the crook of her neck— her body arching to give him access— to drown in her scent as he reached under her shirt to grab hold of the binding.

The cloth tore into strips and the cold night pebbled her in an instant. He dragged, open-mouthed, down her shoulder, her chest, cupping a breast in his large hand and then snatched the nipple into his hot mouth.

Byleth gasped at the sudden envelopment, then whined, sounds she never knew could come from her, at the stimulation as her hand fisted into his hair and he began sucking down on her flesh, his other hand slipping down between her legs to reach past to the armored legging.

He pushed, sliding it down. To undress her. To access the sweet, pulsating core in her center.

He was going to devour her whole.

His arm guards lay haphazard beside the rest of her armor as she shed sympathetic tears, saliva trailing from the corner of her mouth, at the near-unbearable indulgence and hurt as Dimitri pierced the tender skin along her shoulders for the third time.

He held her down with his weight, hand pinning her in place at the hip-pocket, the other laced into her hair, holding her still. 

He had removed his shirt and now her breasts pressed swollen and bare from overstimulation against his scarred chest, imperfections in the skin that scraped in delicious friction against the peaks on her mounds. Her shirt bunched in wrinkles above her nakedness.

She had lost all sense of time, the moon shining ever brighter through the ceiling. She couldn’t remember how long he had taken to remove her leggings and bare her glands to the brisk air. How long before he freed himself from his own armored prison and poised alive and all-consuming against her.

“Dimitri.” She whispered and he answered with a ragged moan as if calling his name had been tantamount to stroking him. “Please…” She no longer knew what she begged for. “Please—”

He shifted his hips forward upon hearing her voice as if he had been awaiting permission and her entrance pulsed with slick from several releases as she received him with ease.

Byleth quivered, his size drawing out a small wail and Dimitri answered her with a powerful shudder of his own as she took in the very beginning of him. He was big, bigger than she remembered, and thick. So very thick her mind nearly ceased to work.

Dimitri began shaking with heavier and deeper breaths, a growing excitement bleeding through his scent as he pushed deeper into her, stretching her folds to kindle friction against her glands. With his new depth, he spread her even greater than he had before and revealed the true extent of his size.

All of a sudden, she felt a terrible wrongness at their joining, a foreignness to the act that she never experienced before. His physique had changed to where his presence inside her felt so unfamiliar that, for the first time in sharing such intimacies with him, he overwhelmed her.

“Dimitri!” She cried, pressing hands to his face and chest, and the alpha jolted while still inside her. “_Stop_!”

He ceased moving, though he remained swallowed inside that pleasing part of her, shaking with unexpected restraint as his eye searched her face, seeking the emotion that had embellished her voice.

He must have seen the fear because he released her hair and raised his chest so that he no longer framed the entirety of her body, so that he was no longer inside her.

Byleth felt a boneless relief throughout as he continued to watch her, her breaths coming in quiet, short gasps as the sensations and the panic from earlier released into something that better resembled satisfaction, her breasts still exposed and sore. The world appeared to her in a daze.

Dimitri slid his lips apart as if he were about to speak.

“Well, well whadya know? Wha’ do we have here?”

Dimitri turned towards the voice, pale physique catching the light and he appeared to her in that instant as a vengeful saint, eyepatch stark against his skin, blue eye sharp-pupiled with residual lust and the perception of danger.

He reached past her for something beside them. The years had stripped the youthful softness from his arms, replacing them instead with a thick, cordoned musculature riddled with past wounds.

Then a warm, bitter-scented fabric blanketed her and Byleth recognized them as his furs.

“Oi, get yer asses over here. These ones’re still alive!”

Dimitri stood up, black protective fabric hugging his muscled legs, before stepping out of sight. Then a ping and the sound of metal detaching from rock followed by slow, stalking footsteps leading towards the pews as he approached the speaker.

“Who is your leader?” The alpha whispered.

“Look a’ that, boys, that’s a crazy one right there. He ain’t even gonna fight us with armor.”

Exhaustion closed her eyes. Byleth needed to rest.

“It doesn’t matter.” His voice followed her into her dreams. “You will all die anyway.”

The men never stood a chance.

She woke to his muttering form sitting at the edge of a pew near the cathedral entrance as he stared listless upon the ravaged forms before him. 

Byleth found her clothes where they left them, her wounds—his marks— stinging, but she ignored them and dressed.

She kept his cape in hand, gathering his clothes and chest piece along the way as she carried them to the silent alpha and placed the items beside him on the bench.

Then Byleth knelt before him.

He didn’t notice her, continuing to watch the bodies, whispering words in a voice too low for her to hear, words not meant for her ears. Their earlier shared intimacy had failed to heal the deeper damage that had been done to his mind and the observation brought an un-mistakeable sense of loss to her chest.

Something had been lost between them during her time away, something even more significant than the bond, though Byleth could not articulate what that was.

A new injury marred his chest, one that would have incapacitated a lesser man, but the blood-wrath must have numbed the pain to a great extent. She lifted her hand to the wound, intending to heal him when he caught her by the wrist.

Dimitri gripped her hard, but without the strength he used before. “Don’t.” He growled.

“Let me—”

He pushed her hand away and rose.

Dimitri towered over her, another reminder of the incredible growth he had undergone, his body almost filling the space between the pews in their entirety. If he wished, he could engulf her much smaller frame in a single embrace, as he had done not long ago. His temperature burned to where the heat suffused her like a furnace. Yet she never felt more distant from him as they stood there together.

Then he began leaning forward and Byleth thought he planned to close the distance until he reached past her and began collecting his clothes.

Tamping down disappointment, Byleth stepped back to give him room, the air between them tense, even awkward.

He left the wound untreated and dressed in unnerving silence.

Putting on the final piece, he glanced at the bodies again as if he had missed something during his study of them, then began walking away towards the entryway.

As if he were the only living being in the world.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

He didn’t answer and continued walking, spear at his side.

“There are too many of them.” Byleth stated and then stepped into his path forcing him to pause.

His voice sent chills through her body. “They need to die.” He whispered. “Every last one of them.” Colder and emptier than the tombs beneath the monastery.

Her fingers found purchase on her armguard, nails digging into the metal, as she whispered, “What happened to you, Dimitri? These past five years.”

He laughed. The sound more bitter than his blood-wrath.

Then he replied, “You,” and she flinched at the resentment in the word. “You happened. Over and over again, unending, everlasting torment. Your death and then my suffering these last five years.”

He began chuckling again as if he never heard anything more laughable.

“And now, you’re here again, like you’re real. Like I can touch you and we can become one like before.”

Then his eye slid past her as if she had vanished once more into the aether of his mind and he spoke like he had before, except this time she could hear the words.

“But the real one died long ago. This one is just another specter of the past, molded by _her_ to curse me for having been so weak. To punish me for having let go. They appear before me, following me, even in my dreams.”

He closed his eyes.

“When will they ever cease haunting?”

Then he swayed, wordless and driven, towards the path that would bring him to the bandit camp in the ruins below.

Byleth didn’t think he could hear her anymore.

* * *

The moon had already risen for many turns and layered the forgotten town in a peace that belied the danger within.

That danger stained her weapon as she flicked the blood into the grasses.

Jacob and company would not arrive for another day.

Byleth flew towards another figure bearing down on Dimitri’s blindside.

Their breaths gave them away in the illumination, fear making them cloud-like and heavy in the late night, countless individual clouds peppering the landscape.

The bandits outnumbered them greatly.

Dimitri fought on without regard for the odds, executing his enemies in an endless rage, arrows plunging into the ground and into his flesh as he shrugged away the pain in his rampage.

Byleth staved off the thieves attacking from the shadows, but Dimitri continued overextending their capabilities, pushing far into unknown territory. She struggled to keep them from being surrounded as the prince focused only on the next body to appear in his wake.

She parried the blow from another overconfident thief that charged into view, then slew him in the next stroke. The kill bolstered the belief that perhaps they might yet survive the night.

Until another flew in from the side mid-swing.

Byleth had no time to react, the knife already traveling towards her abdomen as memories arose of the wound it would inflict. Like the imperial assassin from a different time, the blade would penetrate the lining in her stomach, cutting it apart and—

Turquoise-blue streaked past her and numerous lacerations on the thief erupted in a bloody shower.

The scent of cedars in fall.

“Felix.” Byleth breathed.

Slit-pupiled brown met her own as the alpha rose from where he landed, dressed in the leather and furs typical for his northern origins, cloak framing his svelte, muscular frame.

“I thought you were better than that, professor.” He taunted, face slimmed with time, more handsome. His messy bangs danced in the wind. “Welcome back from the dead.”

“Felix,” Dimitri whispered in kind, freezing at his appearance. His voice came out rough, shaken. “Why are you here?”

“To make sure you don’t die like an idiot.” Felix snarled in sudden viciousness and swept around to sink into a lethal fighting stance. “Why else?”

Dimitri stared in disbelief for another beat until replying, “Hmph,” and readying his spear.

Byleth joined them, exhilaration sweeping through her. The ruins no longer appeared teeming with danger. Instead, she saw their opportunity.

They now had a fighting chance.

“Did he hurt you?” Felix demanded as they each faced multiple opponents.

A group had cornered them with an ambush, cutting them off from their prince.

They stood back to back, so close he must have caught wind of her altered scent. Her marks throbbed as if in answer to his question.

“No…” Byleth replied. “If anything, I hurt him.” She countered one, enough to emit flying sparks, and incapacitated another, grateful for the distraction. One that could drown out the words from the cathedral. 

“Everyone’s hurt him at this point.” Felix bit out as he taunted several more.

Some resembled roving mercenaries while the rest battled like brigands. They charged and the alpha wasted no time in cutting them down.

“Where are the others?” She asked as they whittled away at their assailants.

“How would I know?” He snapped.

“I see.” Byleth mused. He must have come alone.

Felix killed the last bandit with a shout as if airing his irritation at her question.

Arrows hissed through the immediate quiet. They dodged in time as the heads struck the dirt.

“They’re hiding in those buildings.” He growled, noting movement amidst the dilapidated structures. “We need to go around.”

Then a gang surrounded Dimitri, this one more substantial than the last.

A man with strange, bulbous eyes stood on a dais further ahead, surrounded by another group of bandits. He made a gesture and the men charged on their lone opponent.

Dimitri retaliated but his spear moved with significant delay and Byleth recognized the weakness as blood-loss from his earlier injuries. 

“No time.” She said as her heart leapt into her throat. “He needs us. _Now_.”

“Professor—!” Felix began, arm raising towards her. 

She broke into a run.

“Gods dammit!” He bellowed, then came the sound of rapid footsteps as he chased after her. “Why am I always—!” He bit off the growl.

Byleth flourished her sword as she ran, repelling arrows as they bombarded them, closing in on Dimitri’s position.

Then her feet stepped on something metallic and she heard a snick!

Cruel teeth clamped into her foot, connecting to a chain that snapped up and wrenched Byleth to the ground.

Another volley of arrows released into the air, too many for her magic to destroy. 

“Felix, don’t—!” Byleth shouted, but the swordsman paid her no heed.

He threw himself between her prone form and the incoming threat, sword raised and ready to deflect, knowing the risk full well. 

Byleth watched, helpless, as the arrows neared, ready to pierce flesh and bone.

Then the sky alighted in magic.

Flames roared to life in a sweeping wall above them, almost charring their clothes, but consuming the projectiles, metal and all.

A simultaneous thunderclap boomed through the area and, when the air cleared, the arrows had ceased and a smoldering plume rose from where the archers had been situated.

“Whooops!” A rich voice trilled from behind them.

Felix turned at the sound and a glance revealed that the aftermath had singed his brow, though he seemed not to notice.

“Sorry about that! I’m still figuring out the range on that spell. Great magic, by the way!” And here the voice seemed to be speaking to someone further away. “No more pesky archers.”

“Professor?” A softer, sweeter voice called out and recognition flared. 

“Annette…?” Byleth called and she looked towards the sound.

A young woman stood where she had been expecting to see the child-like stature from her memories.

Red-orange hair, shoulder length and trimmed with bangs, framed a delicate, powdered face. Beneath the robes and fur cloak covering her shoulders boasted a fuller body, matured in the years Byleth had been gone. 

Seeing her face, Annette’s rosy-pink lips lifted in excitement as she cried out, “Professor!” And began running towards them.

Beside her stood a woman clad in a yellow, a veil outlining her welcoming face and gentle eyes. Her hair now reached just past her ears, tracing her chin. Mercedes smiled with stars in her gaze as she followed after the smaller omega.

Someone waved from farther back and, though she no longer wore the signature black cap, Byleth recognized the beautiful woman even from a distance. Garbed in magenta robes accented with black velvet, she wore clothes fit for a court mage.

“Dorothea.” Felix muttered. “If she’s here then that means…”

Byleth made to get up, then winced, having forgotten the contraption in the midst of their reunion. She broke it apart with her bare hands. Then soft light enveloped the wound and disappeared, leaving smooth skin.

Mercedes had healed her.

Hints of sweet pea tickled her nose as Annette helped Byleth to her feet, the scent only growing stronger as the omega enfolded her in an embrace, the freedom with which Annette released her fragrance equal to her trust. Then Byleth remembered the danger and gave a start.

“Dimitri.” She whispered. Byleth pulled away from the mage and made for the alpha in the distance, but her ankle throbbed in residual pain and she stumbled.

Felix and Annette caught her before she fell.

“Don’t worry your head over it.” Felix murmured, eyes fixed in his direction. “They should be here by now.” He sounded more displeased than anything else.

Byleth looked to the fighting and, before she could respond, a chorus of whinnies filled the air.

A red-black blur galloped in from the north and broke apart the men crowding the prince.

The figure swept a black sickle in long, powerful strokes, relieving heads from shoulders, as he loomed over his adversaries. Plated in silver armor lined in material blood-red as his hair, Sylvain scattered the cluster, as ruthless and imposing as the alpha beside him.

Then he glanced in their direction.

Golden-brown faced their way, shining with unbridled anger, lips thinned in fury. He took Byleth aback, appearing truly angry for the first time since she came to know him.

“Tch.” Felix clicked his tongue in disbelief. 

Then the man on the dais screamed.

Her attention snapped to him just in time to see a pegasus-rider slice in from the night sky. Dipping in low and quick, they attacked with precise violence and ran him through.

No longer just a studier of the knights she admired, she had come closer to resembling one. 

Ingrid alighted on the grass a ways behind the fallen body, short hair elegant even in the ensuing wind as her armor gleamed in the passing night. Her emerald cape billowed behind her while the remaining thieves dispersed, then fled.

She had killed their leader.

The blue lions gathered around Dimitri like men and women to the one that bore the future crown to the kingdom.

He had been thought dead or missing for five protracted years and they approached him as such—a veritable mix of reverence and uncertainty—as if no one could fathom his sudden existence after so long.

The lions treated Byleth with similar deliberation, another phenomenon that had no simple explanation.

She herself remained where she was, knowing the prince wanted nothing to do with her existence, even as her heart ached at the thought.

Felix in turn refused to approach his future king, his reasons owing in large part to the alpha knight nearby, the tension almost visible between them.

Dorothea also kept her distance, hands clasped in front, observing the meeting from afar. The gathering had an air of exclusivity, one that only pertained to certain individuals in the group.

“You…” Dimitri whispered, his voice capturing their attentions. “You all came.”

“Not everyone…” Dorothea murmured, but not loud enough for the others to hear.

Dimitri shook with an unreadable expression, but his scent gave away the conflict within.

“_Why_?”

He asked the question in such genuine confusion, as if he could see no reason why any of them should care to do such a thing, that it cast a hush over the group.

Byleth wondered how such large, imposing man, surrounded by those who loved him, could still manage to look so lonely.

“You may not remember this, Dimitri,” Mercedes whispered, patient and tender towards the prince before her. “But we promised we’d meet again one day. On _this_ day, the millennium festival.”

Some nodded, others did not, but none turned away from their prince. The collective weight of their gazes and endless consideration for him seemed to penetrate the pall he had cast over himself.

Dimitri lowered his head, unable to maintain eye contact any longer. His bottom lip trembled, and hope reinserted itself as a sliver inside her chest.

“I—” Dimitri began.

Annette screamed.

Everyone spun towards the sound.

Annette had wandered away while the others had been pre-occupied, lured by a sound in the bushes. Now the helpless mage clutched at the brigand that had her snatched by the hair, tears welling in her eyes. A knife pressed to her neck.

Felix acted first.

He unsheathed his sword and made to run forward when Dorothea stopped him.

“Wait!” She exclaimed. “We’re too late. He’ll hurt her if he thinks we’re trying anything.”

“Ehh, smart.” A voice drawled. “Not whatcha expect from a whore.”

“Hey now,” Sylvain growled, smiling with his canines and promising death as he also had someone hold him back. “You shouldn’t say that about a lady.”

Mercedes had lain a hand against his chest, her face contorting with uncharacteristic wrath. Her fingers curled with a harsh light glowing in between.

Emerging from a hidden nook at the upper end of the platform, the man Ingrid had slain appeared once more. The body with a similar, if not same, face still lay motionless where she left him.

“Yah killed my little brother.” His eyes bulged as he spoke, hateful. “I’ll keep this short. Jus’ remember. Yah did this to yerselves.”

Then he nodded to the thief holding Annette and he moved to slit her throat.

All of a sudden Annette snarled in defiance, eyes blowing wide in a savagery rarely seen in omegas, flaring her fangs at the man clutching her hair. He flinched, which gave her the opening to wrap her hand around his wrist.

Magic burst to life where the skin connected and blood spewed in every direction as he screamed.

She had severed all the tendons in his wrist.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” He screeched, dropping her to the ground, and jerking his remaining hand back to crush in her skull.

Felix burst forward with a roar as Ingrid reared her pegasus, Annette blocking her face in desperation.

Then a dark-turquoise assailant dashed in from the south, hidden earlier by the forest, and smashed an axe into the brigand’s chest, crushing the material.

The thug crashed into a section of the ruins, stunned.

Then another figure stormed into view, heavy-armored and clothed in mud-orange fabric cut with the mark of Seiros. He passed Annette’s defender— now revealed to be a familiar, grey-haired man— and closed in on the incapacitated killer. The man had already begun moving again, groaning.

Three quick thuds followed, equivalent to a reinforced fist slamming into flesh, and the struggles ceased.

Mercedes hurried over to her best friend.

The pegasus snapped its wings ready to deploy, Ingrid’s spear still wet with blood from the previous brother.

Until the bandit twin gagged.

Her mount whinnied as Ingrid ceased her flight in shock.

Protruding from his jugular with eyes bulging frog-like from the sockets, a blade extended out from the man’s neck. His eyes crossed as he saw the weapon that stabbed him. 

The sword slid back with a wet exit and gore drooled from his throat as he tilted forward, eyes still crossed, and fell from his perch. He died before he hit the ground.

“What in the world…?” Felix murmured.

The others remained silent, arrested by the figure above.

Byleth could only stare in amazement at the sight, one so familiar and personal it felt overwhelming to see it herself, to see something that should have been impossible.

Cheeks marked with blood from her kill, fangs and pupils undeniable in the light as dawn broke over the horizon, Marianne stood before them, weapon in hand and cloaked in blue-white over silver, fitted armor. Somehow, within the last five years, she had learned to fight with a sword.

And presented as an omega.


End file.
